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Potential

June 4, 2012

Capable of being but not yet in existence.

First dates are like that. Full of possibilities and the imagined is so tantalizing that you can hardly believe how wonderful it al seems.  You wait for it to get to the top, the pinnacle only to understand it is always the penultimate. There is no prize waiting for you at the end; there is only potential consistently wagging it wet tongue at you urging your on.

Married life is like starting out sitting at the very top of the bleachers-the nosebleed section. Its exhilarating and makes you a little nauseous if you look down. Its windy, open, blazing without shade. As the years progress and you move out of the cheap seats working your way into the shade and then finally to the club house you always assume that you have made it. You are there.

The game continues and some are home runs, some steal the bases, some slide into home plate and some just run around and around in the outfield hoping to catch a fly ball. Playing on the field is endless as the innings stretch on indefinitely. You get tired and sit on the bench on the opposite side of the field only to realize you must still yet climb up the steep steps on the other side. Reaching the top, glancing over your shoulder is not some magic carpet ready to take you to paradise but just another field and this time its football. In the snow and rain and people you don’t know very well are constantly trying to tackle you because you have the ball.

Running blindly to the next game you clutch the ball to your chest, head down someone smacks you on the shoulder and yells “tagyou’reit”.

There is no base, no time out. The clock continues to tick and you will never hear the gun signaling your time, is up.

I don’t even like sports.

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