Homecoming

I felt like a stranger. I didn't belong in this place surrounded by kid's books and warmth. I belonged out there, somewhere colder, riskier. 

I cried.

Maybe someday I can explain to Baz that I never could fully commit to family life. That's why I read Kramer vs. Kramer from time to time, wondering. But right now I have to try. Really try. I don't know how. I just do.

Meanwhile I listen to music while I write. All this genius, distilled into the purest of purity. How?