The point is:

I have failed at my own idea.

I apologize.

I will be better.  I can do better.  Yes I can.  

I've been thinking about girls growing up.  Watching them in this supposed haven, sheltered from any sense of change, cloistered into consistency.  I've been watching their mannerisms, developed from a steady influx of shoulds and coulds and never-will-bes, thinking about how I should have been a dancer (but never would), should have been a poet (but couldn't, just couldn't), should have been a hot body.  What do they think they will be?

The point is:  how far we've come.  

I hope I can say the same in another 10 years, in another 15, more.  I hope I can continue to say the distance we've traveled is vast; the yearnings we seek have stretched; the things we should have been are....

well, what?  Are they accomplished?  Defeated?  Thought better of?  Are they inane to begin with, just crumbs from a phantom want?  

I guess I hope I know.  I know enough to know.  

Today:  I should be a force, a change, a magnet.  I should be without the hesitancy that stills plagues my biggest ambitions.  I should never say, "if only I could..."

and you?

...Josh is in the kitchen listening to rap that sneaks up on you like a dick in ya face.  And everybody's living with boys these days, it seems.  Even me.  I never thought much about what that should be.