singing. remember when i used to sing? (tegan and sara edition)

i am feeling something, man.
mostly i am feeling pretty fucking lucky.
the ride home is cold, hands shake, breathing foggy, still marveling at the effect of GLOVES. Sainthood is currently on repeat. and im just fucking singing. loud and completely obnoxious, just belting out the higher parts when sara asks
-would you take a calm and tender terminal kind of care?
-would you touch me
-cling and wage an intimate fight for me?
it is no wonder i am such a strange animal lately, these things, these simple short songs tell me i can be more than the lower parts of this month. the old feeling, do you remember? muffled now, the creature howls in a back room somewhere, with the memories from middle school and the other blackish bits. oh, so angry i am ignoring it. while it can live without food and water, it cannot exist without my pitiful ass succumbing. unfortunately, ive found the locks and a sturdy chair to lean against that door. you poor thing. please. just die.
 -i know you feel it too, it all seems so untrue
-uh oh oh no uh oh oh no
look. after the tragedy that was 2010, the massive reconstruction, the fact that i am standing upright and by some blessed miracle - excelling - i just don't know. i don't want to get extreme and say "oh i don't give a shit anymore yeah!" nah, i definitely care. i certainly feel. i still feel the soft tugs of something that could very well be love. i lust, touch, reach, i care. but maybe the whole thing jump started the process of realizing that i am truly on my own as far as making this whole shit life work.
freedom. the smallest amounts.
it just feels so fucking good.
-slow down, you transfer all your weight and disappear
-slow it down, you have a tendency to rush right into your past
you know? hell yea. i used to go back to what i thought were the bright parts. i used to hold onto people that were just the absolute worst things, angry kicking things. i thought these instances of sharp emotion, sex, booze, punching holes in walls oh my god what a fucking life i have had sir good lord? huuuhhh got lost there. i was going to go off on this idea that it was all for nothing buuut FUCK THAT. what a fucking life i have had!
i repeat, i am so lucky.
i think about my grandparents, chaste and faithful in their religion, finding comfort in consistency and structure. my parents, staying together when all that would have ever made them absolutely happy was being apart.
-i won't make a scene over you
then i think about me. i might have crashed so haphazardly through life but holy shit i could not imagine any other way to learn. grow. after being told you are sick, being told you wont make it. being told you wont be anything.
-i know the world's been mean to you i've got a cure hold tight
-oh oh when you say it so so slowly to me oh oh like keep going
-oh oh i know you need it so so i need it too and oh oh i must keep going so you must too
and i made it. angels by my side in her drunken i love yous her beautiful fucking grace, in the lights of a city i barely remember now, in a friends art and love for a dog, in his arms around me in the basement of a bar in council bluffs, iowa as he presses his face to my neck and good lord has anyone held me like this before?
in this i know that life is something special.
ha! these ridiculous blogs, i am so happy here. i am so motherfucking cheesy.
who gives a shit. im fucking FLYING.
the creature mewls and i just fucking laugh. never again. you can't have me ever again.
-hard-hearted don't worry i'm ready for a fight
it just never been like this. its never been like this, you know, you've been here.
i think i asked before, in the great sorrow, what was the lesson?
life took everything, the universe told me- no.
but i think the lesson was that my legs were still under me. that somehow my smile still worked, my heart was still -against my deepest wishes- beating.
the lesson took a few years. i had to hate things for a while, had to give up a lot of myself, had to admit.... things. i had to realize. i had to experience that ripping grief. i needed that.
and fuck. it hurt. it tore parts of me out that i will never recover. but overall, as a whole, i exist.
and maybe i need to stop asking why and start making that existence something that fucking counts.
-might paint something I might want to hang here someday,
-might write something I might want to say to you someday,
-might do something I'd be proud of someday.
-mark my words, I might be something someday
 hm. who would have thought that life would work just like they always told you. be patient. figure it all out. go through some shit. find yourself. 
im not even 30.
is there more?
the thought makes me smile, not cringe, and that. that is special.

it never matters

i am, have always been, will always be brash and strange.

moving, gin, work (the fuck the holidays edition)

What is it about the holidays, man? It’s a fucking beast. At work people walk up foaming at the mouth, growling orders, staring a little too hard, challenging and short. Me and the girls are taking beatings, frantically moving, putting up the hard faced walls we need to protect ourselves. I mean, we try to smile through the angry rushes but that one person walks up again telling us what they need, skipping the thank yous, texting and snapping gum and suddenly our eyes are losing focus again and the red flushes our cheeks giving us away. When you walk up and the girl in the stained apron has the dead behind the eyes lord make it stop look and her hair is going this way and her hands shake a little, know that you did this. You did this to us. It may be why you get an edge the rest of year. Sorry. The holidays. Dramatic I know. But fuck it.

I’ve been really into gin lately. Again, fuck it.

I’ve been stealing into the night. Trying to forget the ripping pain of the man I’ve spent the last 2 years with telling me he doesn’t really want to know any more about me. What’s in a past anyway? I have strange secrets now. But whatever. I'm exploring.

Moving out feels exciting. First time since the duplex with the blue floors. This should be interesting. Council Bluffs, Iowa. How the fuck did I end up here?

.....

THIS

Sometime about 3 years ago something in me was able to find all the right switches. She wandered around my mind, slightly skipping, maybe humming, and flicked all the ones she could find with blinking lights, steam seeping, and angry red cracked handles. She found all of them. She did too good a job I think. I shut down. Crying there while I typed about my dead child, wondering what the fuck I was going to do, fighting so hard not to just give up: that must have been when the part of me started to gather the blueprints.

She must have known. I must have known.

It was perfect. I did something right. I took precautionary measures.

For when the man I chose that night in September would scar me for life, and never apologize.

For when I decided to move to Nebraska with him anyway and had my heart break repeatedly with grief and homesickness for weeks and weeks while he sat stone cold next to me in disgust till finally, it stopped.

For when my friends gave up. For good reasons. But you know, I’m selfish.

For my parents fighting on the phone, for my mother sobbing into the receiver at 3am. Where is your father? He never comes home. God have I wasted my life? Please mom, I…. can’t.

For losing my grandma. And her beautiful smile. I was so far away.

I was fucking prepared. None of that shit hurt as bad as it would have 3 or so years ago. Are you fucking kidding me? What is this huh? Are you even trying anymore, universe?

Remember when you took everything? Ha! I remember. I have a thousand little reminders. I remember.

And this time motherfucker, I was fucking ready.

It’s why I when I heard her voice on the phone for the first time, I knew she would be a great boss. I could hear her kindness, I could hear her firmness, and I could hear her laugh and I liked it. I knew I wanted to work for her. And I did. I do.

It’s why I didn’t share, why I was strong enough to carry all of this. Why I could build relationships. Why I chose the second chance, the anonymity. It’s been so fucking wonderful. They smile into my face, they laugh with me, and they don’t pity me. They see my eyes, they hear my words, they judge me fairly. I gave myself this chance.

It’s why I was able to ask another into my car, and without fear.

It’s why I am so fucking successful here, FUCK I am doing awesome. Excelling.

It’s why I am finally who I really was all along.

I took the measures.

Its why every time you made me feel like a fool I stood firm, looked you right in the face and said you better fucking watch it. Or you will lose me. You will lose this. You will lose everything. I am everything. For once in my miserable life I am everything.

I was never so empowered.

I warned you. By god. I did everything right. I talked till I was hoarse, I tried not to cry. I made my points into special little understandable easy to digest pellets and shot them like buckshot from this articulate and aggressive mouth of mine.

I could only love you the way I knew how and expect the same back.

Too much to ask for?

FUCK NO.

Again, are you fucking kidding me? Almost in my thirties and having been through all the shit I have are you FUCKING kidding me sir.

I am smart, I have a beautiful smile, soft hips, thick hair, sharp wit, I sing too loud in the car but I know all the words to the songs you like, and I can teach you things. I love deeply, and I reach. I study, goddamnit I work like a fucking dog. A whirlwind of attention and energy. This is what the fuck you are losing.

No one has time to fight with somebody, beg somebody to love them.

Especially not me.

But I did. How sad. Ha! Oh jesus, I begged you to just let me in, just tell me why you don’t care as much as I do. Did. You sat across of me and said I don’t know where this is all coming from and I almost fucking laughed out loud. Holy shit. I haven’t had a feeling like that in such a long time. I just almost threw my head back and laughed.

Before I would have been a mess. Oh my god I’m so sorry it is all my fault I’m sorry don’t worry I will fix this.

NO.

NO.

NO.

Not this time. You had the misfortune of coming after the enlightenment. After one cheated, after one decided I was poison, after one sat across from me while I shook apart and held the screwdriver out like a knife. Are you ready? Did you call the cops? Let them come. Don’t make a fucking sound.

I took precautions. You see, I set rules. I did something right.

For the times you cringed when I would cry. For the time I tried to talk about the baby and you said let’s not do this. For the times I tried to talk about my little brother and you changed the subject. For you, erasing my past. Pretending it never happened. I used to be like you honey.

I’m not even really talking to anyone anymore.

I used to think giving all I had was something heroic.  

I know now I was just a fucking idiot.

I was so fucking stupid.

But I know me better than anyone. I know what I need; I know what will fix this. I am so strong now it scares me. I am so fucking strong. I ask now, I look into a strangers eyes and say come get to know me. I ask the tough questions. I will always want to touch. I do touch. Spontaneous, I do more than just touch now. I take. I will from now on always want a part of the people I know. I am a different thing now. You took nothing from me.

And sadly, I am done with this chapter. You had your chance, baby.

I will take my cat. I will take what little possessions I have. I will take my heart. I am finished.