Dissecting

Dissecting the way that I feel is something I have gotten particularly good at; after years of swallowing my emotions, I finally came into my own when I learned how to ask myself, "What does this mean for me? How do I feel?"
So once those two girls made their way into the crowd, I thought about my reaction to the seemingly innocuous eavesdropping I had been doing. Did I feel sad because I didn't have a relationship like that with my own mother? Was I missing my youth on some level? Did I long for something I had yet to define...a greater sense of family, perhaps? And then, the scariest question of all: did I want to be somebody's Mom? That cool Mom that came into the City and met her daughter for lunch...the one that all the other kids thought was cool?
Or was I just having an overly hormonal moment? I shrugged it off promptly, but I would be lying to you if I told you that those thoughts weren't pinballing their way around my mind, and that there was some pretty deep introspection going on inside.