A week after I’d met you, you showed up beneath the window of my second floor apartment at the back of the theatre. Crying and sobbing. I’d never seen a man like that before. I let you in.
I realized then that your outside voice was your only voice.
You had a new tattoo, of me sitting on an anchor like a mermaid, on your forearm with my unusual middle name scrawled across an ink ribbon under it for the entire world to see when you rolled up the arms of your navy blue cashmere sweater. I was speechless, like who would do that? I’d only known you a week and you were like so totally all in. I felt sad for you and strangely impressed at the same time. Who does this? Who throws their whole self into everything they do? Does a foolish thing with such enthusiasm? You do.
Mary McBeth is an American writer, editor, and wounded healer, living in Panama, Central America. To date she has lived and worked in more than 220 cities, in 23 countries. She is currently hard at work on her first memoir entitled, Where the Heart Is. www.MaryMcBeth.com