30 minutes

Last night Jess and I drove back from a very good friend’s 40th and since they live quite far away, we had 30 minutes to ourselves to just talk.

I once heard on a podcast about these brothers that always go on a hike when they have to have difficult conversations. The harder the conversation – the more difficult the route they choose. They explained that they could connect better and more honestly alongside one another as opposed to sitting across from each other. The same must be true of cars and road trips.

The conversation Jess and I had wasn’t a difficult one but 30 uninterrupted minutes with each other has been rare in the last 14 months. We’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of life we want for our family and what that looks like. I’m not going to get into that right now – it’s Sunday and tired and I’m going to sleep early.

What I will do though is leave these Lana Del Rey lyrics here. I’m not even a Lana fan (well, not a typical one). When I read these lyrics I had to reconsider my position though.

You thought I was rich
And I am but not how you think
I live in a Tudor house
Under the freeway in Mar Vista by the beach
When you call I take my phone to the picnic table
That I bought from the Rose Bowl
And I listen to the rushing cars above
And I think about the last time you visited me
The last time we made love
How the noise got louder and louder during rush hour
Until it sounded like the sea
And it felt like the ocean was the sky
And that I was flying because you were two feet taller than me
Until you took me in your arms
And I could touch the stars
And they all fell down around my head
And I became an angel
And you put me to bed
Happy

People think that I’m rich and I am but not how they think
I have a truck with a gold key chain in the ignition
And on the back it says: happy, joyous, and free
Happy
And when I drive
I think about the last time my friends were driving with me
How the radio was so loud that I couldn’t hear the words
So we became the music
Happy

They write that I’m rich and I am but not how they think
I have a safe I call the boyfriend box
And in it every saved receipt
Every movie theater ticket just to remind me
Of all the things I’ve loved and lost and loved again
Unconditionally
Happy

You joke that I’m rich and I am but not how you think
I live in a Tudor house under the freeway
Off of Rose Avenue, 12 blocks from the beach
And when you call I put your sweater on
And put you on speaker
And chat for hours underneath the trees
And think about the last time you were here lying next to me
How the noise from the cars got louder and louder
During rush hour
Until it sounded like a river or a stream
And it felt like we were swimming
But it wasn’t just a dream
We were just

Happy

Photograph of the day taken on my phone: The water and the waterlilies in Green Point park.