Everything was so green today. Heavy clouds created heavy light scattered over the leaves and the long grass. I flip through the stations on my radio, deciding eventually on slow folk with a banjo and a drawl. These are happy times, but this radio and I are feeling low.

The future comes on strong. I am so comfortable in this bed that is not mine, in the arms of a man I'm not sure I know. I dream of marriage and childbirth and I wake up wide eyed and out of breath. I am starting to pay attention to commercials for kitchen appliances and eye creams. I am looking for the perfect white dress.

Sometimes I think about leaving. About cities with tall buildings and streets I do not know. I think about this town and how I will still be here in ten years, with a family and a mortgage, a fenced-in back yard for the dog. I am caught up between the two, in the space where I am convinced that happiness is not where you are, but who you're with. In the city with tall buildings, I'm all alone.

I worry about the good, because I've eliminated the bad. And oh, there's just so much good.