Nothing Prepares You

You may be wearing sexy underwear,
and have exfoliated your skin
to a healthy, vibrant glow.
You may look younger than your age
and have quit cigarettes,
again.

You may have learned to stop thinking too much
after years of feeling too little,
and have written a new manifesto
with new rules for a balanced life
that also includes pleasure,
and friends,
and time for shared moments

to stretch
before passing.

You may quit your job and
find your life again, and
paint your room mango orange,
and call it an early midlife crisis
and promise you would never, ever
live like that again.

But nothing prepares you
for that awkward call,
an apologetic warning
of bad news

and the buzz that fills
the silence in the line.

So you hold your breath
and sit down,
remembering that

you said goodbye too casually,
smoked that joint hesitantly,
refused dinner
politely
because you were too busy
with work.