I watched them out of the corner of my eye from across the park. The two of them had climbed up a rope structure, one on either side of the rope. They leaned in close to each other until their bodies pressed together. They kissed.
They looked so young. They made me feel old.
Not that I think of myself as old, but I know that to them I am. I am a tired looking lady slumped on park bench with her hat pulled down low. I am one of them. An adult. A mother.
I know that I was once that old but sometimes it is hard to remember. Back when my worries seemed so important, so big. When I was still trying to decide who I was and who I wanted to be. When the only one I was responsible for was myself.
Watching them I found myself wishing I had spent more time kissing boys in parks instead of studying when I was younger. Then I thought oh god, someday some mother may be watching one of my kids kissing in a park. When really, they should be studying.