The meeting

Last night - it was a good evening, had great fun at the meeting, the one they said would teach me how to lobby a politician. Listening, role-playing, discussing. Called you on the way home, wanting to tell you they said I was good “lobbying material”. Hung up feeling even better. Nothing significant was said, but you were once again warm, approachable, and you laughed when I said I was the neo Neo.

Distance - how difficult it can be. Not the physical sort; appropriate transport can be organised even at a cost, to deal with that. Insurmountable is the mental sort.  Very hard to handle, don't know how to.

At times it makes me angry.  The anticipation, waiting to listen to how your day has been, to share myself with you, then there you are - remote, disinterested.  I am crushed by disappointment, silenced by shame, by fear, and again the anger.  So I vow not to talk of things that matter but of course I do. When I have calmed down, when I miss you again and I tell myself to swallow my pride, as it is non-fattening.

But last night was better. You were already in bed so I ate a late dinner by myself. Lentils, cauliflower and rice with pickle. Really Indian, and really good. Brushed my teeth, started undressing. Pulled off my pink shirt, then the bra underneath.

Little Lavina perched on my lap that morning. All of three and eyes so wise. The knowing that comes when your dad is serving time for being aboriginal; and your mum lies wasted somewhere high on speed and low on money.
Little Lavina, all of three and eyes so old.  But she squeals when I do "round and round the garden like a teddy bear" on her hand. She wrinkles up her nose, her toes curling in delight. She touches my shirt and says "Wred". I say "no, pink". She touches my lips and says "Wred". Her Nan says, "no, pink".
"Pinkkk" says the little one, touching both my lips and shirt.

I looked at my naked self and thought of you, of being with you, of wrinkling up my nose, my toes curling in delight. I am not little and not wise at all.