My head has been drowning in a sea of thought over the last 24 hours or so, however much I've tried to ignore it. Like a mother watching over a newborn baby, every small thing seems to hold a hint of so much more. The movement of a leg speaks in novel form of future walks down the aisle; every small coo reminds the mother of how quickly her new baby will be speaking her mind. If I'm guilty of anything it's being superstitious. I believe that the whole world has a story to tell, hints to provide us if only we'll stop for a moment and listen to her.

Driving home from meeting my ex-husband halfway to pick my daughter up, my senses seemed to be functioning at an almost altruistic speed. They didn't care that I was driving almost 20 miles over the speed limit; they demanded my immediate attention. Pen went to paper while my eyes stayed on the road. I wrote like my hands were possessed, not knowing what would be on the back of the envelope when I dared to look at it.

The orange sun sunk slowly beneath the horizon and, with it, hues of blue, pink, purple, yellow and tangerine. It cast corridors of light over a small pond on private property, living the American dream of the acres and the white picket fence. It seemed to move behind a halo of trees at an almost surreal speed; daring me to watch it, double daring me to expose its secret to the world.

I took an unknown drive on the way home, getting off at an exit I had never traveled before but intrinsically knowing the way. Squirrels raced my car through the small town's park, bounding through grass almost as tall as they were. A few miles down a dusty back road, I was graced with a quarter of a rainbow. I smiled to myself, reminded that this life is not even close to being over. It's only really just begun to reveal its true glory.

On my left was the rainbow; on my right was the now reddening sinking sun. On my left was the last few green lawns of the season, barely holding on to its beauty with advanced irrigation; on my right was the broken orange corn stalks left over from the season's harvest. Life and death. Hope and despair.

It all hit me in that moment. The car ride, the path I thought was unknown to me was a path I had taken out of town with my sweet Bear in our first few months of being together. We were so passionate then - driving around to find places to park so we could fuck on the hood of my car. Holding each other's hand as if the devil himself might try to pry us apart. Crying because we loved each other so much. It was all right there. And nothing was different.

Tears dripped down my cheeks as I watched the rainbow lead us home, lead me to the place where I first met Bear. A place filled with bittersweetness, love and betrayal. The thought of losing him loomed in my mind. I wiped the tears away, fighting them back with all the strength I had yet. "I will not let this be over," I said quietly to myself. "I will not let them win."

As I pulled into my destination (my birthday party), I glanced again at the rainbow. It was all there - the full, beautiful, miles high wonder. I felt a joy and fulfillment in that moment that I haven't known lately. I learned later that it was even more rare than that. It was a double rainbow (I'll have pictures later this week). And I felt more blessed and hopeful - maybe life has another curve ball in store for me. I can't wait to find out.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Sunday, October 02, 2005.