I know the atmosphere is 78% nitrogen. But it's more than that. I can look up through the troposphere, the stratosphere, the thermosphere. But it's more than that. There is a space around me and above me that I cannot comprehend, and I need snowflakes drifting slowly, or specks of floating dust in a ray of sun, to even begin to think about what is where there isn't.
I know that you are 22 and from Albuquerque, New Mexico. But it's more than that. The posters hung sideways on your wall tell me that you like Andy Warhol, your bookshelf tells me you read big, fat books by famous authors. But it's more than that. You are more than that, but mostly I make you more than that, and I don't know who gave you the right to grow so big and powerful in my mind.
I know that my cat is overweight. But it's more than that. I missed her when I was away, and now I'm back and she is still overweight, possibly more so. Her purr when she bumps her head against my fist still sounds like a little bell, and still makes me smile. But she doesn't let me hold her for long anymore. It's more than that. I don't think she's mine anymore. What else of mine is no longer mine?
I know that tener means "to have" in Spanish. I have furry boots, I have several pairs of my mother's stolen socks, I have mauve toenail polish. But it's more than that. Tengo sed, tengo hambre, tengo miedo, tengo calor. I have thirst, hunger, fear, and hotness. Maybe not right now, but I have them in my collection of certain past and future experiences.
I know that my house is pistachio green. But it's more than that. I know that it was garbanzo-bean colored before pistachio. But it's more than that. It was probably another color before garbanzo, and another before that, and before that, maybe it was no color. Maybe it was a pasture with a cow that was cow-colored. And before that, maybe a forest with many tree-colored trees and creature-colored creatures. At some point, that piece of land on which I was born on a Monday morning probably did not exist.
I know that my grandmother's ex-boyfriend is the famous author of one of my favorite books. But it's more than that. I know that if they had stayed together a little longer and my grandmother had missed the play at which she met my grandfather, I probably would not exist to read or love that book.
