The Piano is Not Firewood Yet

My head isn't screwed on straight, I know. I wasn't like other people. Not the normal people, anyway. I didn't wait for anyone. I didn't hope that a man would surrender helpless and offer me his love and fidelity wholeheartedly. That had taken a backseat in my life with permission. I had invited solitude in and offered it a place to stay. And though I didn't mind, I had wanted to want another person. With an obsession that felt like burning. I wanted to say yes to marriage and a large home in the countryside filled with our children. And if he'd threaten to leave I wanted to cry and get on my knees begging, forcing him to love me. But I couldn't; that lifestyle didn't become me. I had a chameleon soul, no fixed personality, with an obsession for freedom, and a passion for living that made me wild and wavering. I needed to lie my head on the open road, to roam freely in bizzare cities, to walk openly at night.