How important is context? Do I need to tell you my whole story for these tidbits to make any sense?
Last night I struggled to write about that shot glass for about an hour. I kept going waaaaay over my target of 200 words. There were so many other things I wanted to tell you. I still don't feel like I got the point across. You don't know how broke "broke" was. You don't know how it broke my heart to have him not let me help him. You don't know how important it was in my personal history. Or maybe you do. If you've ever been there...
I wanted to tell you about the squealing serpentine belt, and how comforting it was because I could identify the sound of that car from blocks away, and I knew when he was making a delivery in my neighborhood. I wanted to tell you about the time we were in that car and it started gently raining, and I looked at him and laughed and just slid closer to him, out of harm's way. I felt like if it got too long, it would become too boring for anyone but myself. I felt so limited.
I am torn. Do I remove that parameter? Do I remove that parameter only when it is convenient for me? Am I writing for an audience, or myself, or what? Kurt Vonnegut always said he wrote for his sister. I spent many years writing for someone who probably didn't even know I was doing it, and most likely didn't deserve it. When I stopped writing for that person, I stopped writing. Pretty much.
So. Big questions. Today is a sunny day. I am going to absorb some of it and dwell in the present for now.