In Reply

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She said that she misses home, and that she may be back soon.

I didn’t know how to reply then, so, I didn’t.

I still don’t. What… some twelve… sixteen hours, later?

Assuming that she even wanted me to. Like I’m the father of advice, or the only shoulder in the universe. Assuming she even wants advice or a confirming shoulder. It seemed that way, though. It was said sort of out-of-the-blue. I hadn’t asked anyway.

I’ve always thought, when someone mentioned something at random, say like, “I think I’ll shave my head,” while running their fingers through their perfect and lovely hair, that they either want you to concur, and tell them they could use a rash change in their life, or adamantly disagree, and extol their beautiful locks, because, day after day, even beautiful or seemingly perfect things can become mundane. Humans have such a difficult time reminding themselves how wonderful what they already have is. We need outside confirmation.

But I’m not sure that’s what she wants to hear right now, or even, “Oh god, I’m so sorry that didn’t work out…” “It’s probably for the best…” “Home is where the heart is…” or “At least you gave it a try…” all of that mother-hen nonsense.

Maybe it’s just that simple: She misses family and friends and pets and school and work… home. Familiar is hard to let go of. I can understand that. Maybe that’s all she was doing… saying it… getting the words out of her mouth... putting one foot on the road back.

But, I still don’t know what to tell her.

How about, “Cool.”