Tonight I feel older than twenty-seven, but younger, too. It's strange when you feel the push-pull of energy and hear those voices saying, "You can do this," and then, "Who do you think you are?" And then you move on to the next moment.
It's already mid-June and the trees have blossomed and lost their petals. Now it's lush and fragrant and I love drifting up the subway steps after a thirteen hour day on my feet, smelling that earthy air, then whiffs of peoples' trash, and looking up to a changing moon. The stars are almost as visible as they were in my childhood summer sky.
Today I gave a man my phone number. I don't do this, but I was waiting tables and slightly delusional and there was a connection. Maybe there wasn't. I carefully folded a witty note around his credit card and dropped it off with his check. Then I ran away. Bold in one moment, six years old the next. Isn't that how it is? Isn't that more fun than staying the same?