rambles

my head is swimming, skipping with alka-seltzer cough and cold. yikes, this stuff HITS. i'm riding this jelly shaky wave of almost nauseous and it's not nice.
so let me keep busy. let me pull my trip towards the interesting side. hey, at least i'm not coughing anymore...
as i'm stretching on the floor a second ago my mind is fleeing off in the familiar way, i'm turning my head slightly as she slips into another room - giggling and not looking back. she'll be back. right?
my legs ache from far away and i'm back to this on the pale rug in our basement. reach for your toes, tilt your head back. my body feels like a garden unattended. wild with brambles, little creatures nibbling away at it, a tired leaning fence is all the protection that's left. i wish i could venture to care for this more. my physical part. i thought that quitting smoking would be incredibly hard, but i've been inspired. i should at least re-build this fence. plant some flowers. and for fucks sake do a little trimming woman! ha.
forensic files and water. lots of water. i feel nostalgic.
i really hope everything goes ok in florida.
oh, i'm moving to florida.
there's that.
the midwest is cold and small. stunning for sure, but i don't see myself here long term. i don't know where i see myself. i have no roots. i'm planted in sand and loose gravel. i don't feel at home in my old state, i don't like the snow and wind of my new one. picky picky. but life ticks by. i have this weary soul standing next to me and it's within a person i very much like. i need him to be happy, because then i'll be insanely happy. a little sun will help. learning new things will help.
everything i own used to fit in 4 large boxes. now: a large laundry bag. and a shoebox maybe.
still, i will miss this basement. the hum of the house above, the air mattress layered with memory foam, linen, a down comforter. the lights he put up, this place he made for us. i remember the first day i came down here and i'm sure gave him the 'really?' look. but he used his hands and his smile to sell me, he chose terra cotta and teal. my favorites. he said from the beginning: i just want to give you a comfortable place to stay, i want this to be your home. little did he know he makes anywhere feel like home instantly.
florida will help.
ooohhh my head.
mmmhmmm.
i hope this all works out. what am i saying. it will.

when you are finally healthy enough

you know it in the way air tastes.
you smile in a special way - a lot less shaky and in line with the other person's face now.
things don't feel like broken glass around your fingertips, you've been cut all your life, and you're not really scared of it anymore. a little blood. it's only a little blood.
after you experience the worst pain of your life, after all the shame, all the catastrophic bumbling, the wrong kinds of touch, the most lost you've ever been in the soft black of your mind and heart.
after all that
you crawl up and out.
you fight. i fought.
somehow, after everything i am still an entire person. i used to think that i was losing pieces of myself with every horrible year. i used to feel the gaps and deep resounding aching in every limb. days in bed, tear filled face pressed to another tired friend, another weary caretaker. i thought for a second there, that i wasn't going to be able to do this.
but then i surprised myself. and everyone who rallied like champs around this broken angry girl.
air tastes magical lately. fresh and different in each place i find myself.
i'm finding i can be proud of myself, i can look into mirrors and not cringe, i don't need a cigarette, i don't need a drink.
i found that i am healthy enough, in a wonderful state, to love someone back.
and i found him. the person i needed. he wandered into my life when i was finding daylight again. in a curious state of mind, still working through so much. but finding my feet under me for once.
he took the lumps, he kept me even after i lashed and fretted. he doesn't understand how from now on i will do everything i can to make him realize it was all worth it.
he makes me want to work hard.
think deeper.
be patient.
take care of myself.
share.
i see so much of myself in him. the dark parts, that light angry cloud that hangs around his head lately, the way his hands go to his face, grimaces and sighs. grief touches us all differently, touches some of us more often than others.
my handsome man, please, don't worry.
he is the person i needed all those horrible years, he is the supportive smile and loving arms i wanted so badly in the times when i i was ready to stop. just stop.
i got lucky. i survived long enough for him to lean down and press his lips to mine and change my entire process.
so, even better, i can be the person he needs right now.
i hope i can be.
when it's different, it just is. when it's worth it, it really is.
this place used to be where i would drag in and cry and hide.
but now, i'm working on something really special.
a real life, shared.