bottle it up

"Soon as you start to make room for the parts that aren't you, it gets harder to bloom in a garden of love."

The cup shattered all around her with shards coming to the edge of her feet. Claire looked down absently, only registering the broken glass enough to tiptoe around it. Her eyes never left the view of the backyard through the sliding doors leading out from the kitchen. As she walked, she tried to remember the last time she had even opened those doors. Too long.

Maybe to the common observer, the yard looked okay. The grass was cut low, flowers were blooming, birds chirping and all that nonsense. But she wasn't a common observer and she was not pleased with what she saw. Claire had created her oasis her, had spent hours happily constructing her own Eden in this yard. What she was seeing was decidedly not Eden-like. Misshapen bushes along the walkway, weeds growing mightily in the flower bed, overripe vegetables in the garden.

Claire remembered the bright, early morning she came out here. Her routine had been so simple yet so satisfying. Early morning rising, a grapefruit and iced green tea, a.m. yoga at the studio down the street followed by scrambled eggs, then at least an hour in the garden. Claire came out even when it was ice cold or foggy or slightly drizzly. The only thing that would stop her was an actual rainstorm, and even then she would sometimes sit at her kitchen table fervently hoping the rain would end soon. She would get more done before 8 a.m. than any of the people she knew. Her friends thought she was crazy for starting her days like that, even the days she had to go into the office. But they didn't complain when they were munching on the vegetables and herbs from her garden. Nor when she hosted birthday parties or cookouts in the backyard.

How did this happen? Claire considered the question briefly but the answer was obvious. She just didn't want to face it. Her nights used to be filled with quick chores like loading the dishwasher and ironing tomorrow's clothes, reading in bed, and falling into sleep at a reasonable time. Now her nights were late, filled with pool halls and movie theaters and bars and bowling alleys. Her beautiful, blissful mornings filled with yoga and light food and cultivating her yard were now consisted of hitting the snooze button, strong coffee, and hastily made stacks of pancakes. Now her nights and mornings were preoccupied with Connor.

Connor, whose kisses were like rain, but that was the only thing light and airy about him. Claire remembered that her whole life used to be light and airy. Then came Connor and those kisses. Now she had been sucked into his world. It had all been so fun and new at first, new places and people and adventures. A whirlwind. But the fun vacation feeling had ended a while ago and Claire was now faced with the realization that what she had mistaken as a vacation was actually her life. And she couldn't live like this.

There were a lot of things Claire wasn't sure of as she walked through her yard to the small tool shed. She wasn't sure if the squash in her garden would be edible. She wasn't sure if her roses would recover from weeks of neglect. She wasn't sure how long it would take her to get this backyard back into shape. She wasn't sure when was the last time she had sat out here after work with a glass of wine. She wasn't sure how Connor would react to early nights and early mornings. But Claire was absolutely certain of one thing as she put on her gardening gloves. She was sure she was about to find out.