Fat lovely droplets

Christen made dinner yesterday. Then, to rid me of the inevitable sluggish post-dinner coma, she suggested a walk. Cross Broadway and down to 79th and across to the West End. We dropped down a sloping driveway, passed a lighted cafe and went out to the riverside, under a misty shower of rain. Rain on our faces our fingers and our darkened forms. Drip drop plop. We walked across small tugboats with peeling paint, cracked and comforting in the silent waters, and onto the shining white yachts; past the drenched lawns and towards the outstretched canopy of a stooped elm. I wondered where all those ships have been to. Shabby. I said that as we sat on the bench facing the gleaming lights of Jersey. But not in a bad way. I'm in my 24th year, my year of shabbiness. Unpolished, roughed somewhat, and grandiosely uncaring and purposeless. For the past eight years or more, I've always seen a goal ahead, something that I should aim for, presumably to make myself and others happy. But now in this contented stage of shabbiness, I don't have a clear goal, and until recently, I haven't come to terms with the uncertainties, with the inevitable smudgeness and grime that accompany living without defined paths. The irony of this is that in the past days I have come close to a career decision, but at the same time, because of the months of shabbiness, I am ok with leaving frayed ends (incomplete and untidied) - train of thoughts - about my decision to go with this life or that. I've made the leap across the yawning ditch of faith. Mid-air and I'm contented. Because I know that I have to land somewhere, and that there are things in my control and things out of my control. Like the rain. It comes down happily now, not caring about the people milling about below. It comes through the silvery leaves and soaks the gnarled branches and makes a puddle about our shoes. There's a music to the rain, uncomplicated and random. Splosh splish drip - plunk. It glistens on her face and blurs my vision. I see myself fade out and a newer, shabbier, and more assured kid fade in.