the astronaut in my chest

All adventures, especially into new territory, are scary.

--Sally Ride, America's First Woman in Space

feeling myself to be more from earth than venus, normally I use the men are from mars argument to scrub my toilet. but today I waver. I do feel a bit distant from my martian lover. perhaps I am, after all, light years away from understanding the mechanics of the male mind.

I grew up in a home where the mother was the caregiver, the dishwasher, the cooker of the bacon that the father brought home. my mother buttered the bread my father won. not that I have a problem with any of this, it was for the most part a happy and loving home, but I always hated that my mother and father had such a difficult time understanding each other. no amount of time together could undo the simple fact that my father felt one way and my mother the other. so here I am, maybe not cooking bacon, but uttering words I remember my mother saying. I am hurt by what I see as inconsideration. he is disturbed by what he sees as me being my mother. I love my mother but I don't want to be her. but who's right? should I just "relax"? or should he stop relaxing so much? should he perhaps squeeze a bit? why is it so damn difficult to just meet somewhere in the middle of our planetary hearts?

you know, when I think of the romantic space mission my parents have been on for over 30 years, I realize that progress has been made, new terrains have been discovered, and craters have been overcome. in fact, I remember my father making his own sandwich once. now if that doesn't give you hope?...