Adolescent

I’m so embarrassed I could die.

When we reunited after separating 

years ago, I thought we could sit on the couch 

and watch TV like a normal couple because 

everything was fine, but that was a lie.

Now I drive around in my adult life 

going to work, keeping appointments and 

listening to depressing songs: “Fast Car” 

by Tracy Chapman, “Disintegration” by 

The Cure, wondering how we can be 

so far into this thing, and still 

not be sure of each other.

We should be nearly there, that age where 

we’re ready to sit on a porch peacefully 

together holding hands, looking back 

with wonder on our lives.

Gratitude and wisdom, not this

adolescent anguish and indecision 

sheer ridiculousness of this mess.

But there is no “making it” in relationships 

(my therapist reminds me), and in the world 

there is no safety, it is always already 

the “full catastrophe”*

And if I was going to grow up

finally, I guess it may have been 

necessary to regress 

a bit first. 

*”Wife, children, house, everything. The full catastrophe.” Alexis Zorba in the movie “Zorba The Greek” - The full catastrophe - Wikipedia

The full catastrophe is a comic phrase usually used to characterize any kind of disaster.