Fleeting Freedom

I was puttering around the house last night while David sat in the living room looking quite overwhelmed at the enormity of tax information needing to be organized. When suddenly, and completely unrelated to taxes, I had an epiphany!

“Everyone’s full of shit!” I declared. David looked up at me and smiled so lovingly. “And so am I!” I went on enthusiastically, feeling as if I’d finally figured out the key to life’s mysteries therefore putting an end, once and for all, to my own suffering.

“I told you sweetie,” David replied in a gentle tone, “But you always said I was wrong.” His face looked serine, his eyes glazed, like a cult member who had the “Answer” all along and was finally seeing it realized in the heart of his lover.

And as I walked into the next room, I was smiling to myself and I kept saying the words, “Everyone’s full of shit and so am I.” And I was free. I really was. For about ten minutes. Until I realized it wasn't true.