i am here

it was a rough winter. by which i mean, the weather was mild, and still we found ourselves so weathered. for the worst. for the dregs. for the ice we walked upon. i found myself unrecognizable. unsure. unsteady. and at times, unhinged. but really, is there ever a right way to handle anything? when we find ourselves falling, we put our hands out as quickly as we can. it's human nature. i often wonder if i made myself so unrecognizable so that it would seem it wasn't actually me who was holding the hand i was dealt. this is not my life. i don't do these things. i often found it a struggle not to alienate myself. not to push people away. not to lock the door and pull the blinds.

i sought distractions. i threw myself deeply into anything that wasn't rape or hiv or firings or break-ups. i was obsessed with avoidance. but it gets better. it's getting better all the time. i re-read the books i read. i quiet my nerves. i sleep when i ought to. i anchor myself. sometimes all we really need is an anchor. half an hour. to see the ways we've so severely fucked up. to let the tornado run its course. to let human nature run its course.

i tried to replace apples with oranges. because there was one person who could make it all better. there was one person i actually yearned for. yearned to fix it with the simplicity only he knows. to deal me a hand of my own. i realized while on a date, of all places, that we've almost been broken up for as long as we were together. three years is a really long way to go. i sat there evidenced in my own surprise and sadness. trying to recover my fumble. trying to recover the dinner lost to memories and photography and holidays and the fights. the hell that was a good life. and you wonder, how long does it take? how long does it resonate? should this still linger so strongly? should i still be here? i still have a difficult time grasping what's not permanent. it's not permanent. we're all on loan. we're all alone, in one way or another. love and in love and the best of intentions don't change it. don't rearrange it. don't make it easier to sell or harder to buy.

you realize, you do not exist in songs or cards or longing. that you are here. you are here. wherever and however that may be. however far the miles intercept.

i have a job now. i have an appointment with a case worker. i have pork chops and inhibitions and magazines and remote controls and songs and all the things i've always had. the foggy vapors don't change the reality, they just make it harder to see. it just gets so hard to see when we scoop up each other's stars. when we close our eyes to truth. when we lock the doors and pull the blinds.

i am not in songs or fights or refugee camps or dockets or stories or heartbeats hidden in pillows. i am here. here.