Sometimes I really know. You know?
But sometimes I don’t. Right now I really don’t. I mean I can feel it. Yes I can. But do I truly know? No, I don’t think I do.
Cosmos. The greatest unknown. I’ve always loved that word. We call our humans in space astronauts. The Soviets called theirs cosmonauts. Don’t you think those damn Ruskies captured the breadth and the emptiness and the loneliness and the breath taking wonder beyond this little blue orb contained in the English language word cosmos so much better than our bureaucrats in Houston and Washington did? I mean, astro vs the cosmos. C’mon … there really is no comparison.
But I’m digressing. But maybe not. The cosmos is so unknown, don’t you know? And did I mention, I don’t really know.
Because there’s this bridge. I’m building. Well, it’s kind of built. Partially. A little rickety right now to be honest. In my mind it’s pretty old and tentative. And I feel it’s out there in the cosmos. Nothing fixed at either end. Because when I get it almost attached at her end, before I know it, it’s drifting again.
All this time she thought I was a wedge. Coming between the important things in her world and us. I don’t know (there’s that thought again) how many times I’ve tried to explain it to her. But as of yet, she’s not a believer. I thought it was getting through that gorgeous noggin of hers when I said it was a bridge, and not a wedge. That made her consider.
Which was progress. But today the bridge is very much adrift.
So I don’t know.
There’s a theme here.
One thing I do know.
I don’t like I don’t know.