"I want to worship your body on my knees."

I was fifteen and confused. Then almost immediately I got a follow-up text.

"Oops! Delete that last text, Jake! I was texting you and dad at the same time. Sorry about that, love. What I was going to say is I'll pick you up from Mattie's tomorrow morning at nine. Have fun!"

I guess it was nice to know that they still liked each other after 20 years of marriage...in a 'things I really never wanted to know' sort of way.

We listened raptly as the Captain spoke, madly waving his arms, speaking of the riches awaiting us on the shores beyond the horizon.

New to the ways of the sea, none worried that the ship had no one at the wheel as all were making sure the Captain saw them listening and nodding, all hoping to curry favor and reap the greatest rewards.

We didn't know the Captain had won the boat in a backroom poker game and knew less than any of us about how to sail the ship, having given the boot and the finger to the former captain's crew.

"Bunch of morons," he was heard to say about them.

Miles from land, the boat began to spin. The Captain stopped waving his arms and speaking long enough to wonder aloud, "Who's driving this thing?"

Looking up to the helm, we saw only dancing shadows, and some of us were gripped by fear, its tiny talons having silently yet swiftly snaked within us, relentlessly squeezing, stabbing our hearts and minds as we realized the future he had promised was as solid as the smoke receding before our eyes.

Monday is usually 'meet the newest intern, fellow or volunteer psychiatrist" day at Elysian Fields. (Yes, that is the name of this lovely facility where I live. Someone clearly has a sense of humor. Elysian Fields, indeed.)

And, yes, volunteer. I suspect that allows the owners of Elysian Fields to keep more of the funds supplied by our families. There are no paupers amongst my fellow bedlamites so government assistance, if such a thing still exists, is not part of the bottom line. It was rather telling I suppose that I was meeting with my regular therapist, Dr. Phillips, today, the Monday after.

"Thank you, Loretta. Good morning, Lily," Dr. Phillips said as his assistant closed the door.

"Good morning, Dr. Phillips. How was the golf outing?"

"Three birdies, one hole in one, zero bogeys," he responded, as he leaned back in his chair.

"Good then, yes?"

"Could have been better."

"Could have been worse. Didn't you finish 10 strokes over par last week?"

"Under, actually. I even had an ostrich."

"An ostrich. Wow." I know nothing about golf, but I know Dr. Phillips and I could tell by his face that he'd impressed himself.

"How was your weekend? Did you enjoy the concert yesterday?"

"You know me. Of course. It was exquisite."

"I hear they had Mama's Meatballs last night. Did you try them?"

"No."

"Lily..."

"Dr. Phillips," I replied, mimicking his warning tone, "you know I'm a vegetarian."

"And you know that is against the rules."

"Asinine rule," I mumbled.

"Vegetarianism, like many other isms, encourages divisive behavior and erodes the bonds of community, society. Some differences are inevitable and can add beauty, even joy, to the world. Others just cause conflict."

I rolled my eyes. "How about I just don't eat meat without giving myself a label. That work for you?"

"Lily..." Dr. Phillips sighed. "What else went on this weekend?"

"They locked me in my room last night."

"Because..."

"I went for a walk."

"You don't get locked in your room for taking a walk, Lily."

"Aliyah thought I was trying to run away."

"You walked to the edge of the property. From the surveillance recording, you looked quite happy until you realized there was a wall."

"I hate when you ask questions about things to which you already know the answer."

"Lily, I'm your doctor."

"For soooo many years. Does it say anything about you that I'm still here?"

"Don't be insulting, Lily. And no, it says more about you."

"Of course I was happy until I realized the path ended," I snapped. "I wanted to keep walking."

"You could have walked around the grounds. The circuit around the buildings is longer than the walk along the path you took."

"I wanted a change of view."

"Hmmm..."

"I like the forest. I especially like the forest at night. The quiet, how bright the stars are..."

"Where were you trying to go, Lily?"

"Nowhere. Anywhere. Elsewhere. I don't want to be here anymore."

"Elysian Fields is the best institution of its kind. The best of the best."

"You know what I mean."

"Lily, when you say, or imply what you just did, you know that only makes everyone think you are suicidal. And feel the need to take away privileges that grant you some independence. And to lock you in your room at night."

"I am not going to self-harm. You know that."

"Do I? For as long as you have been my patient you have held onto the belief that you were once stardust and you deeply want to return to that state of...bliss, sooner rather than later. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. What else is any sane person supposed to believe but that you want to take your own life and would do so if free to make that choice?"

I start to cry. "If you could remember, you would yearn for it, too."

Dr. Phillips hands me a tissue. "It's not a memory, Lily. You know that. We've discussed this so many times."

"No, I don't know that." I blow my nose. "Which is why I'm still here."

"Lily..."

"Why is it so hard?" I whisper.

"Why is what so hard?"

"Life."

I walk perhaps 15 minutes before I realize that I have gravely miscalculated... everything.

I am breathing deeply the cool air of the forest, reveling in the music of the night. I feel lighter, freer than I have in so very long. And then a voice says, "Time to head back, Lily."

I look over my shoulder but see only the trees and the path leading to rooms with doors that only lock from the outside.

"The path ends just ahead. Time to get back for dinner. Mama's Meatballs tonight!" It's the voice of Aliyah from reception. I assume there's a speaker hidden amongst the leaves; security cameras anywhere.

Everywhere.

I walk a few more steps and realize the path beneath my feet ends abruptly although, from a distance, it appeared to continue far and away from here. The view is merely a projection of some sort. I reach out and my hand passes through it before touching a wall I cannot see.

"Yeah, they did a great job creating a sense of space, no?"

"I thought..."

"Yeah, it happens. We want you to feel free to roam. Within reason. We would be remiss if we let our patients just walk away without ensuring they are ready to be functioning, useful members of society. You have not reached that point yet, Lily. You know that better than anyone."

I collapse against a nearby tree and slide to the ground. I tilt my head and look up at the stars. A multitude of blinking lights. I can see the dippers and Orion's belt clearly. At least two planets are in evidence tonight, too. The sky seems so close I imagine I could reach out and touch it, feel myself soothed by its embrace. My heart aches with yearning.

"Do you need an orderly to come get you, Lily?"

I take that as the threat it was intended and shake my head.

"Just a few more minutes," I say.

"Okay, but don't be late for dinner. Those meatballs are great!"

I want to say I'm a vegetarian, but I just nod and keep looking at the stars.

I hum a little Rachmaninoff because it's that kind of night and then I get up and follow the path back.

I make it just in time for wilted lettuce followed by zombie cocktails.

Back in my room, the pills begin their work and I welcome the peace of dreamless sleep. I close my eyes and just as I am slipping into oblivion, I hear the almost silent click as they lock my door.

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand then pull out my earpods. Saint-Saens is silent now.

I have to get out of here. I don't belong here. There is no cocktail of medications, no amount of therapy with Doctor Phillips or meditation or prayer or passage of time that will mold me into someone who fits. I know what I know and I don’t want to unknow it. It is beauty and light and more lovely than anything I've ever known here.

Ellie is right. She, all of them, will take the pills, spout the proper words or phrases and leave, returning to the world beyond these walls where they will make an effort to soften their edges and make a life they can live with. Some will succeed. Some will wear out a path to these doors.

And some will slip softly into the mist.

It's early yet so I put on my flip flops and head for the garden. There are no guards, or bars or high walls or electic fences here. There is no need. We have no where to go, to be, that does not lead right back to bloodied wrists, stomach pumping, or nighttime oblivion resulting from self-medication or that ordered by the staff psychiatrists.

More importantly, we are miles away from anything that is not trees and rocks, grass and sky. A selling point: Quiet serenity to subdue a turbulent mind.

I walk into the forest as night begins to fall and the first stars peek between the leaves. I look up and smile. I can almost hear their music. Feel it's hum beneath my skin.

I walk into the darkness but I have not felt so light since before. I don’t look back. I do not need this place that cannot see or hear or understand my being.

I am going home.

Officer Pierce peered through the window. "Kids are on the floor."

"Are they hurt?"

"Can't tell. I'm going in."

Junior was comforting little Jeannie whose arms were bruised, her feet bare, bloody.

"You alright?"

They stared, mute.

"Mama here?"

Jeannie nodded.

"Daddy?"

Jeannie looked at Junior. He nodded.

"Pierce, I've got Lacey here. Looks like Adam went too far this time. Her head..."

"Got it. Any sign of Adam?"

"Kids room, Pierce. Briefs around the ankles, multiple shots to the groin. No pulse. Kid-sized bloody footprints."

"Weapon?"

Junior let go of Jeannie and pushed his daddy's glock across the floor.

I am quite the cook these days but I have spent thirty three years of marriage perfecting my culinary skills.

I was very much not a good cook when we were dating. When we met, I was 22 and could boil water for pasta and open a jar of sauce.

The first meal I cooked for him was blackened Salmon. A cajun dish. I followed every step of the recipe. At the risk of sounding immodest, I have to say that nowadays, my following a recipe would meet with great success and all would enjoy a tasty meal. Not so much that night.

I placed the plate in front of my then fiancé. He smiled, took a bite, stopped smiling, swallowed and said, "I can't eat this."

At the same time, I had also taken a bite and had spit it out, surreptitiously, into a napkin.

I replied, "Me neither."

I hadn't managed to distinguish "blackened" from "burnt."

Full disclosure: I haven't attempted a recipe with "blackened" in the title since.

My son was two days old. The nurses waved us off as the taxi pulled away from the curb.

It waited as my husband carried the carseat into our home, his other arm around me.

He settled us on the couch, kissed my forehead and ran back to the taxi which would take him to 30th Street Station to catch the train to New York City.

For my father's funeral.

A busload of people from my dad's job arrived at the church for his "homecoming" service, too. He was that loved.

Meanwhile, I sat on the couch a hundred miles away, holding this beautiful new life in my arms, feeling my heart squeezing from joy - my baby!, fear - ohmygod, he's so small!, anxiety - what if...?, grief and sadness - my daddy! My daddy...my daddy.

Is there a place in the universe where your vision of life has met with greater success than on Earth?

Is it a place where one need never fear others? Where all can live in peace? Where violence of any sort has no place?

Is it a place where hatred, greed, envy, anger, jealousy no longer exist?

Is illness, physical and mental, eradicated?

Do love and kindness abound?

When was the last time you gazed upon your creation? Did you give up long ago or do you still hope?

Do you see Earth as a success? Why or why not?