Frost

Rian was once a Perfect child and a Perfect young adult. I think perhaps I have said before that Young Rian was convinced that if I was Good, God or the Devil or some Higher Power in between would not take my terminally ill mother away.

Every Thing Rian did, Rian did to please Rian's parents. From the private school grades to the college attended to the proper clothing, the perfect etiquette...to other, more dangerous things. Rian gave up both Friends and Wants at my father or mother's word.

I was playing a game with God, one supposes. Always a bad idea. Does one ever beat the Devil or Genetics at its own game?

The point I am coming around to, yes? Is that when Rian goes home or home comes to visit Rian, even though the game is no longer played, the habit remains.

I paused over the skunk screen yesterday, thinking "I am once again an empty Shell with Rian washed away. And I am happy enough to be empty."

We build foundations when we are young, and if we are lucky we learn to move on, build up upon those foundations. One should never stay stuck in the basement.

Rian has built a tower in late adulthood. I can see the sky from my dizzy Self. I suppse when the elevator stops working, one must again climb the stairs to freedom.