Naked shower parties

Donald Murray said, "If I write, the dark shadows move away from my desk."

Two nights ago I took a shower with a bunch of naked people. That's true. It's not an analogy... though the longer I think about it, it is.

It's hard to describe how sad and regretful I feel that it's taken me almost four years to start doing things I love. I'm being melodramatic. It's still true. And I'm even more regretful that now that I've discovered this new way of living, this way that's exciting and full of wonderful people and new experiences, that I only have three months left. And that feels like a very, very short time. The last small breaths of a symphony, and I've only just now realized—my God—how could it be—I reach to my head. Ear plugs.

Here it is, here's the analogy: I've been waiting for an invitation to a naked shower party for a long time. I didn't know I was waiting, but now it's obvious. And what a moment it was.

There, an extended hand, promising adventure. Me leaning, taking the touch of the hand and saying with tired and grateful relief, "I thought you would never ask."