Take, for example:
Best Friend and lived kitty-corner to each other. That is, if the homes in our neighborhood were the 4 corner states of the United State, she’d be Colorado and I’d be Arizona, at least from my perspective.
We did this all the time.
The first winter we spent together she took off her mitten and stuck her hand in the snow. Then she cried, and we had to go inside. At the time I thought, “WTF are you doing?!”
Now, as a parent, I understand her thought process. The snow looked soft and pretty. If she touched it would it feel like a sparkly marshmallow? NO. It felt cold and wet. DAMMIT.
And then, how do I end it? Something about the innocence of youth? Something about how dorky Best Friend and I were?
Maybe, sometimes, a story doesn’t have a deeper meaning. It just ends. Sometimes things just happen, they are what they are, they don’t need complex analysis.
Sometimes, I need to stop over-thinking everything, and just go on with it. Or let it go. Whatever is more appropriate.
Also, I didn’t want to end the week with a post about a detachable penis.