Broken Corelware.
So that’s what it looks like. But perhaps I’ve seen that once before.
Once my dad broke his arm– I hadn’t known that could happen.
And then the other day I read the blog of two classmates
who were popular in high school, and it turns out
that they had to eat ramen noodles when they were first out of college
and now their child has autism.
The ramen noodles and the autism have nothing to do with each other.
What I am saying is that I thought they were invincible, I thought they were
shielded from all those hard things.
Maybe they thought that too, or maybe they knew the truth all along.
And it turns out I cried when I read about it.
I used to laugh at my mom for crying during movies
and stories and church
because I didn’t cry. But now I cry,
like broken Corelware.