Lava Lamp


My friend Amy let out a soft sigh as she swallowed her last spoonful of chicken noodle soup. We were eating lunch on a patio, leisurely sharing updates on our lives. It was Amy’s turn at the mic, and she had just finished vocalizing a new development with a former boyfriend. 
She plopped her now empty spoon on the table and said,
“I hate him.” 
“No, you don’t.” I soothed. “You hate the situation.”
Amy closed her eyes for a moment and let her lips curl into a frown. “I hate this feeling.”
I hate it, too.  
That tremble you feel when what was in harmony is now in discord. 
When desires…
….and fears….
…and emotion…
….melt from a solid foundation and ooze down our throats to bob…….up
                                                                                         …..and down…..
like a lava lamp. 
Elements of yourself floating back and forth in different directions…

…and in separate paths…
…but never together. 
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1 Comment

  1. >I hate that feeling as well. Man sometimes I wonder why I ever ventured out from friendship after knowing pain and heartache. Then I remembered what it is like when things are good and I travel back in the lava lamp again, hoping this time the lava will get stuck in the happy place. I love your work!

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