The day he proposed to me (not your father, but another man), the clouds fell from the sky more heavily than usual. They washed us all clean despite our hats and so my husband, my first husband, thought it was the day he would ask if it would be alright if he married me.
I never told you this because it did not last long. It felt wrong to tell you that I had ever been in love.
I suppose that it is too late now to tell you anything that will help you. Yesterday was your 40th birthday and I gave you nothing. I am dying, as you know, but that is not an excuse.
Now that I'm old I don't feel any wiser. When I said yes to Benjamin, I felt something like the innocence of the young and the wisdom of the old all mixed together like coffee and alcohol. It was intoxicating and invigorating and I knew that I had no choice but to marry him. He kissed me in all that rain and my heart felt like it was made of feathers.
I think that I lost all that wisdom when Benjamin died. My feather-heart felt too heavy and all I wanted was stability. I was too innocent to know that stability would ruin me.
Sometimes, Benjamen and I would lie awake at night and listen to our house breathe. It would startle me sometimes, lying there, that I was with him. Then, I thought we would always be together. I was wrong, of course. You know that.
I don't know why I am telling you all of this. Maybe it is only because I want to write it and maybe it is because I want you to know me, even if it is too late.
The story has a lot of potential. The beginning is very solid and I can see where you're trying to take it. I like the plot very much. I hope you continue onward. I can't say a lot right now. I'll have to read more to find out.
This was so sad, but really good. I agree with a lot of the other comments, especially about it being "short and poignant." I wanted to know more about everything - the speaker, the person they're speaking to, the relationships. For me, that's the sign of a good story.
I totally want to keep going.. as if I should have known more when I started, and want to know more after you stop.
Which is good in itself, being that is what you mention... about wisdom.
I am Sofi. I write things. I love words. I love writing words. I don't love writing about myself, so I'm going to leave this horribly awkward blurb now before it gets worse. more..