When young, my writing was fueled by rage and righteousness, put down with a furious pen. These days I quietly type away, sifting through facts for a buried truth, a clear explanation of what just happened. And I write for revirescence.
So this is the latest. After a year-long recovery from broken bones and medical immersion, I went online and met a man. Immediate core differences stood between us, but the mission of my healing legs held us in symbiotic captivity.
He treated me like an injured queen and I acted like one. We took weekly trips from one end of New York State to the other, and traveled to other countries. With every step of the way on his lovely arm, I grew stronger. A few months ago, pain-free and greater leg power than ever, I pronounced myself completely recovered.
But my needs were our structure, and without them the foundation of the relationship shook. Our lack of common priorities turned into a contest of wills. The future did not belong to us, yet in the scheme of our lives, it was an important chapter. Speaking of which, I find myself in another recovery, this time with mighty bones…and an open heart.
Revirescence: excerpted from the OED, noun ‘ The action, quality, or fact of growing fresh or new again; an instance of this.’
Photo of Long Island Hydrangea by Marissa Bridge