Gathering

Aislin gathered herself for the coming week, going through her usual Sunday routine: trim the hair, manicure, and light facial.

She just wanted to go back to bed and sleep through the next month to wake up a week into the new semester. She knew her fear was worse than any of the events about to transpire here or in Iowa.

She thought about the new man in her life - tripidation palpable. One weekend ruined. Although the circumstances were beyond anyone's control, her disappointment was real and painful. She was left wondering if she should get her hopes up for next weekend. If her expectations weren't high, then disappointment wouldn't be such a bother.

She'd promised herself she wouldn't fear love and that she wouldn't push this one away. Aislin wanted to feel joy, to wait with baited breath, to anticipate amazing things, but life had robbed her of the long-term capacity of hopeful anticipation.

"You're being ridiculous," she said to her reflection in the mirror. "He doesn't want to hurt you."

She leaned close to the mirror searching for the green flecks he'd claimed to see. She laughed at how funny she must have looked, wanting to see what he saw.

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may..."