I lied on my back
Under the oak,
Taller than my self assurance
And bigger than my confidence
In Civic Center Park.
The sky was pregnant with a thunderstorm past its due date.
The little local band was playing their little local songs on the little fold up stage.

I was Thinking about why I️t mattered so much how I looked to everyone.
Here in this park
Or in the grocery store
Or the coffee shop
“Because we want to be beautiful.”
I️ thought
“Because I want to be loved”
Loved.
Loved?

I remembered then, that I was
Perhaps not by all,
But by a few. A really important few.
They tell me in special languages
And bring me plates of spaghetti
(And I eat it, even with the meat, because I love them back)
And they drive an hour and a half to bring me home.
And I don’t feel so afraid
Or sad
Or irrelevant
As I lie with my cherry boxing gloves
Under the oak
Taller than my fears, and bigger than my insecurities.
I’m just one with the mamas and their tuft hair babies
And the beer sipping husbands
And the pizza chewing boys
And the women with bikes
And the couples on their blankets
And the tie-dye tee teenagers
and the taco truck workers
And the sleepy dogs
And the kids with the football.
I’m just with love.
It’s all love here.

— A tiny concert revelation

2:06 P.M. June 30th, 2018