strength. but don't worry, i'll be still.

I.... am a new person. I am sitting in a room, cool and dark, the cat is sleeping and so is he. I'm typing on a tablet, the tv is like: here, watch the x files, you have netflix now. I am something different than I once was. I remember a time, ages ago, when I felt like this. strong. something about the way I look at myself in the mirror. putting pretty, weird, earrings into my ears, lining my eyes, smiling a little hungrily... aggressively. I talk. have whole conversations with myself, in the hurried few minutes before work. chest out, hips square. I am a vision. sometimes. I can pretend. I sure can put on a show. still. I remember those years ago, how simple and painful the fall was. and sometimes I wonder if/when it will come. there is something different now, though. I am not sure the fall would hurt at all. I don't think I would even feel the jolt. it used to be the pain was great, pressure in my brain, tearing through my fingers, into my skin. I used to feel every tiny thing. now. I think I'm out of whatever that was. several things have happened here that I should have new scars for. but me, shit, I'm alright. a shocker, a miracle. something. being numb in certain places helps. I have invisible calluses, thick skin, DRIVE. people don't hurt as much. they seem to make less noise. I'm growing up and leaving so much behind. i mean... there are times when I feel guilt, still. I've been through/done a lot of shit. pure ugly shit. BUT. now I find I don't give so much of a shit. now, things aren't as dramatic and important. fuck. I'm not crying, unless it matters. I'm not cutting. I'm smoking like a goddammed chimney but hell, I work at a coffee shop and texas is getting crazy with it's outrageous pro life bullshit. I need that. I just feel good. I'm making things, braids and antique jewelry covered in eggshell spray paint. roses and paper clips, dried thistles in my car. I'm painting and drawing. I am, magically, still in love. I touch my cat and she moves into my hand. slow steady recovery. the small house that I once felt stifled in is my sanctuary. these things. I need them. I meet strange people randomly. a small beautiful mexican girl makes me laugh constantly. an asian girl with sweet eyes and a loud laugh reminds me of myself when I was her age. the man who tattoed the state of texas on me is wise and crude, honest and hilarious. and he let's me have the tattoo for free, leaving me teary eyed and grateful for his voice and hand. it all feels good. at work I work forever. I work and work. I love my job. I'm almost scared to keep going. this is new to me. his niece comes and paints with me sometimes, she asks me lots of questions. shes really an adult when she speaks. shes weird and artistic. perfect.I just can't wait to see what she becomes. and him. well. he's the most perfect thing. he snores and he smells amazing. deeply intellectual. he makes me stop, and think, really think. I am patient for him, better for him. he doesnt know how much I love him. he's just the world. i am a new person. I will not waste this. I am strong. I have the x files and a volkswagon bug. a green one, at that. for all the shit. I just want to remember how happy I am right now.

just in case.