listening to pearl jam's "release" this evening for the first time in years, i want to cry. i am alone here in my white room. there is no one to hide from. and besides, i mastered the art of silent crying a long time ago. but i hold myself together. i pause the music. i look at my mother's face inside my memory and instantly look away. there are things i haven't yet learned how to look at without becoming a child again.
i know she would be proud of me. sometimes this knowledge makes such an unspeakable longing quake within me.