On Your Own

When you buy that first set of queen matresses?

When do you know
you're on
your own?

When you 
move out
of your parent's home?

When you 
write that first 
rent check?

Stevie B enjoying a moment alone at sunset on the RI shore.

First time 
you deal with 
an irate landlord,
a cranky roommate,
or that first
car repair?

The first time
you buy
a real bed,
like a set
of queen matresses,
with a frame
and a real headboard?

Or, when 
someone breaks 
your heart,
betrays your trust,
and you curl
into a ball 
and build a moat
or a wall around your 
wounded feelings.

You learn
to steal yourself
against the pain,
convinced,
never again,
then you breathe,
learn and understand
scar tissue gained
though painful lessons 
is priceless,
once embraced.

Melancholy day on the RI coast.

That's just one
dimension
of being 
on your own.

There's being far away,
everyday,
reality raining down, 
little time 
to find answers,
right or wrong,
something
has to be done.

So, you just do,
have to
make do, 
make the best of it,
live with it,
deal with 
the consequences.

Maybe,
ultimately, 
it's when you lose 
a parent, recognizing,
maybe for the first time,
the cushion and continuity 
they provided
and just how deeply you loved them 
and the void 
they leave behind.

Whenever 
and for whatever
reason, slowly,
whomever willing,
you understand 
this is it,
nothing more,
nothing less,
just this.

You're on your own!