careful now

Will you please keep trying? I am engulfed in madness today, the only way I know how to describe it is here, to a soft screen, to electronic indifference. My safe place, familiar. The people around me are tired. I'm a song with the same notes, badly out of tune. I wish so badly I was easier to love. But I shift, fall, bite. Collapse, this feels like collapse. Saying I love you to a solid wall, holding my breath when I feel anything. Am I the eternal villain? Is this the peak of what I have earned?

I am overwhelmed with desire, hot and aggressive with love. I burn brighter than rays behind a cloud, dissipating the vapors and shining like gold. Only to fall on shoulders and tinted glass, dismissed as a bother, as they wait for the night. All the love letters and touches, do they mean anything? The chattering thoughts and ideas, do they register at all? Or is the impending fall a distraction and the happy moments losing meaning? Am I losing everything? 

It's a black solid thing, pressing pointed fingers into my head. It feels like tearing fabric behind my eyes and deep deep deep in my chest. Holes that never heal, laughter loud and everywhere. I want to ask you to understand, but it's not my right, and it's not anyone's obligation. It's been here for so long, and I know it by name.

the last little bit

It's the sore car accident feeling.
The caffeine crash.
Bones aching so badly, deeply, ringing loud and vibrating.
My head is too heavy, it's too fucking heavy and off balance with tinkling glass and shifting thoughts.
Hurt. It hurts.
I remember being 18, sobbing into someone's lap or hair. Heartbroken, just broken, thinking this was the worst pain I'd ever felt.
This is nothing like that.
This is something I've never imagined.
When you stand there in front of him palms out. This man who makes you flutter, whispers how amazing you are into your ear in the kitchen. He looks at you and for a second you see nothing. It flashes across his face and something twisted and rusty presses into your heart. I'm a snotty crying mess, I feel like my body is being torn apart and a dark hole opened in me. And his face was nothing.
I think I'm losing this battle. I don't think I have the strength.
This was the one. I... just need to sleep.

close

it's been a long time. hasn't it.
it's been very strange, this last year, amount of time, whatever it is. and i'm breathing heavy. i'm so tired.

please believe me, i'm trying.

but i think i should stop for a while. or at least change direction. in the past, way back, before the great midwest awakening, it was eyes shut, full speed ahead. i didn't care about anything, the world was a violent shade of yellow and red. and it hurt. and i loved it. why did i love it? here i shake my head and try not to remember. but i tore myself out of that, poured bleach over my attempt at roots. i thought i could get on my fucking feet and walk like a person. that i could breathe air and smile and talk, i told myself i would try to be a functioning individual and accomplish some shit.

i wish i could say i made it. but i didn't. i went to work, got promoted, and quit. i went to school, won a few awards, got good grades, and quit. i found a soul mate, a strange frustrated man with beautiful haunting eyes, and this summer, i quit that too. some of this has resolved and returned, but let's go through this.

this summer. this summer was so hard. it was the peak of my ability to walk away from things i do not think i can handle. it was me making decisions for myself and proving that this is why i cannot have nice things. the thing is i was, as i always have been, aware that i had no fucking idea what i was doing. here's me, grand idiot, waving at the things i was so sure i wanted, waving as they burn in a field and i'm pressing the gas on a weak transmission.

the winter semester ended, work picked up, he drifted away from me. i tried to figure it out, i spent so much time trying to find a solid solution. all i wanted was to be happy for an actual stretch of time. something consistent. but my choices are strange, i fall in love with things that don't seem equipped for such feelings. i wanted my partner to talk to me, but i couldn't find him. i couldn't seem to convince him that we wanted the same life, that he just had to be patient with me so we could back to the same path and then we could walk together. it was the darkest time in our relationship- this year, after so much quiet. i thought maybe i had earned something. and it blew up in my face. i was reminded that trust is a farce, and that people are mean and hesitant. i don't even know what i wanted, i'm fucking crazy, haven't we established this? screaming internally, constantly, barely standing, but i had thought i was doing better. was i really so wrong? i did it to myself of course. that seemed to be the only conclusion. it doesn't matter that you love someone, they only ever remember when you hurt them. except me. and i am, again, and idiot. but i learned. it was a harsh but resounding lesson. and my heart is less open now, but better protected. and maybe that means it was all worth it. maybe.

somehow, i got through the spring semester. i was proud of myself. i had completed a whole year of college. i thought it was so important, i thought there was potential there. i looked into his face and searched for love and warmth. but i couldn't see through the fog.

so i moved out.

my chest ached so heavily i was sure i would just stop. the first night was brutal, and i knew it would get worse. i took sleeping pills to avoid my evenings. small, intense white pills from my last bloody episode. they kicked hard, but it was worth it after the first few nights of deep cycle crying. i sat in a cute apartment in council bluffs and burned incense. i tried to laugh with my sweet roommates, but i was fuzzy and disconnected, out of focus. i made bread, i cut myself, i wandered into the bathroom to look at my face. i smoked a lot of weed and i went to work. and people told me that it was great that i was closer! hey now we can get drinks. but i just smiled and nodded and clocked out and went to bed at noon. the friends i thought i had, the people i thought i wanted, were cascading disappointments. i befriended a youth pastor from a small town in an attempt to make new friends, he seemed safe, nice. but on the night of a work event he pushed himself on me and told me it was ok to fuck a man of the cloth. the girls joked about it when i told them, i felt a sick guilt even though i had done nothing wrong. i saw people in a new light, more importantly i saw what i meant to them. did i deserve this? i felt so angry i couldn't pull myself together and just be normal. and i wanted out.

one day, i talked to a nice man on the phone in my truck on the street in front of the apartment. he had a slow, gentle voice, i don't even remember his name. it was gorgeous outside, and early enough that our road was clear and quiet. he asked me what i liked to do and we talked about baking and art for a while. i told him i was tired and he said he could hear it. he told me it was going to be ok. i had called the hotline before, but it had been years. i had clocked out at work only an hour before. i did not want to do this anymore, i couldn't handle this. i missed my partner so deeply, i hurt all over with a deep aching that seemed to penetrate every pore. i was angry with humans, i was just so tired of my own bullshit, i just needed everything to stop before my brain broke apart all the way. how do you tell your friends and family this? how do you express that you're being eaten alive with sadness and grief that you can't seem to process like a normal fucking person. why can't i fucking process this?! the man on the phone listened patiently while i cried in waves. he told me i was stronger than i gave myself credit for. when the call ended a few minutes later, i felt better. i was sad, but not despairing. i was still in love, and that yearning was gentle and warm and unlike the cold sharp pain of nothing so i let it wash over me as i crawled into bed. i was alive, and i wanted to stay that way.

things got better after that. i felt comforted that there were people out there that cared enough to talk to a strange sobbing girl on a phone for over an hour. i felt amazing in the kitchen and in the moments at work where everything just came together. i started seeing these things and they sparkled. weed was a saving grace, and i started going for runs in the back streets of Council Bluffs, which were beautiful and brick laden, sweeping hills and colors. he let me come visit him on the weekends. i was just so grateful that i didn't mind the hesitance in his affection, the arms length. there is a vision of a life in front of me that 10 years ago i would have never thought was possible. i will do whatever i can to get us there.

so much happened in so little time. but i am in our house again. he doesn't say he loves me, but that's ok. my eyes are open. i know what i deserve, i know how difficult i must be. i feel safe here, i'm working on everything, i'm trying. i say that over and over again. i'm trying. i can do this.

i used to say that into the faces of those around me.

now i say it over and over again to myself.

i can do this.

the cycle

i am going to try to explain all the things i'm feeling but it's overwhelming. i mean...

my best friend had a baby, and while i'm mostly very happy, i'm also being torn apart by jealousy and angst. she was an amazing show of force, pushing and working. he came and as soon as he started to cry i felt like i was unraveling. watching her and her boyfriend instantly team together in a bond i'll never know. he tells her she's a champion, he beams over his new son. she sits in a hospital bed with this perfect little thing nestled to her chest and no one will ever love her like this little guy will. and i'm sneaking away to the parking garage to pull my crazy together, to get a fucking hold of myself. just get a fucking hold of yourself stephanie. she tries to get me to hold him but my arms shake and my smile wavers. here i just want to throw my arms up and scream. it's been 5 years why the fuck does it still hurt so bad! it hurts so bad. like a white hot fire in my heart, or a gaping hole of nothing. depends on the day. i want to believe that i could do it. adopt and try. but i don't feel confident. she tells me about the bonding part, but i can see it. i can see it in how she talks down into his face, how he calms at her touch. i'm watching like a starving dog. i'm just a fucking mess. i'll never know this. and i need to come to terms. i need to be an adult and get over it. i have to start now, i can't be swallowed up by the sadness. i can be an aunt. i can be happy for people. but i can't sink. i cannot let myself sink. 

meanwhile my other best friend is suicidal and angry. and there appears to be nothing in my power i can do to help. we had a fight in the truck the other night, he snapped at me and i snapped completely. yelling at him with tears in my eyes, you don't fucking care! how is it you can't fucking see? he says he knows he's broken but he isn't even trying. yea i left, i got the fuck out, but i realized that was what i had to do to keep myself alive. i realized, i woke up. he lingers in a dark apartment and never tries to try. everything is met with bitterness and fear. i can't even talk about my life now, this greatness i've achieved, it's as if i'm an asshole for doing what was needed. how can i be punished for that? i yell at him with all my force, can't you see all these people that love you? trying to blame the girls, the army, but honestly, what about you? he can't seem to get that he is important and everything else needs to fall away. he needs to breathe. we eventually just cry outright in the cab of his little truck and apologize for our communication. but the pain of seeing him break lingers. my relationships are complicated and tiring. and i don't know that i have the strength right now to work on it. i feel like giving up. what more is there to do? 

i'm exhausted. 

i want to go home and curl into my bed and cry. i want my boyfriend to talk to me but even he is lost in fog. i check my phone for messages, but usually find short sentences and random nothings. i'm riding the waves, these crashing awful waves. i don't want to be here anymore. i just want to be back where i'm safe,

far away from all of this.

there's so much i need but as i'm forever realizing. i am very much alone in this. and as stated before, i have to learn to adapt. i have to grow up. the romance and whimsy is never going to be the bandages that stick. the waves take them away and salt the scrapes. and i have to feel the sand instead, keep away from the sharp rocks. 

and wait for the sunrise. 

Always and forever

Hopes and Dreams

My hopes and dreams lounge around me
Laid out with legs entwined we replay favorite songs on a loop
The ones that swell with brass and fruit flavored voices of women
Boys on pianos, cymbals, lyrics that make our faces flush and bodies move, ever so subtly
Hopes idly twirls the string from my hoodie
Her voice is bright like striking silver coins, eyes warm honey
Forever in a rising sun
It’s hard to call what she makes as words, when her lips move it's like an idea realized
She's telling me about places far away, experience in progress
Multi layered feather soft sentences only I can understand
And it's comforting, encouraging, it's drive
She let's go of the string and reaches for a nearby piece of candy
Dreams is on her back with her feet moving open toe closed toe
Her eyes are shut, and I realize I've never really seen them
She has both hands outstretched and her fingers seem to plant in the hardwood where we lay
Her breaths are long and her glossed lips curl into a smile
Her voice is deep and it drips from her body, rivulets of crystal clear phrases
Creating condensation within my mind, clinging like rain to a window
She shifts to a position like a curled cat, stretching lithely before resting her head on my stomach
She glows softly, as if emitting a fog
A fog that smells like sandalwood and bonfires, like pure joy
She's saturation, flooding my brain with dancing images
That I can just make out, that almost come to focus
We tangle together, in tune, in time
And eventually drift away, lost at our own sea.

A courtyard

The sun shifted faster than expected today. 

These hours disappear into nothing again and again

To spend your time waiting, talking to yourself under breaths

It blurs together and drains everything else

I'm standing in a courtyard, under the windows of my friends

Finding smooth small rocks to toss above, clicking

Tinkling, sometimes bringing them to a sill

But never down to the shady grass, never here to me

So I sit, trying not to think too deeply, picking at weeds

Perhaps instead I could tend to this garden

This small circular clearing, attempting to grow wild by itself

I could push back the leaves of the lilac trees and let the seedlings beneath turn their faces to the sun

Finally able to push higher than the sharp blades surrounding

Purple flowers, fragrant and light, falling like rain

This place isn't so bad like this, quiet

I guess I won’t need the larger, jagged rocks

Broken glass gets attention but hardly achieves 

Besides, I need to be aware of my surroundings

The smell of this earth and the breezy chill are magical

And the powder blue above my head hypnotic

Emptying my pockets, I rest my eyes instead, these last seconds of a day.

sour candy sore body

i wish i could tell people how hard it is to function some days.
just above my left breast a hole gapes and creates a draft that chills me to my fingers.
i know the grief i've caused so many people.
the scars march in my eyes all day.
my brother's voice, my baby's hands.
every time i see my old city, i see the faces of the people who put their hands in my wounds, body, and heart and pulled. my breath is ragged there, my hands shake worse than usual. and dawnelle says i have to see my parents. she says i have to. but honestly i can't. please. it's hard to look into my mother's face, to see her sadness and light insanity. post traumatic, we both know suffering, but she lingers there. dad is the quiet support but my mother. she says the baby's name over and over and i hate it. i can't hear it. and i want to scream. but i don't. i eat and play with kittens. i plan my escape and i eventually hug them goodbye. as soon as i pull out of the driveway i'm sobbing. wretching. just a normal family visit, ya know.
things still hurt so much. idiot me, i always think it'll be different. and sure, i love seeing dawnelle and matthew, remnants of the tiny group i used to know. sure, i love the hidden gems like mittman's and the wizard. but i get that sticky feeling.
the strain of falling blindly and destructively through the most important years of my life.
the whole time i just wanted to get back to him.
yea. that strange yet familiar man with the soft angry cloud around his head lately. swatting at pesky thoughts and sometimes me as i hover around him and attempt to gauge how he feels at the moment.

because i can help now.
even with that chill.

pass through

this house was different from the others, but the door had been unlocked just like the rest. she stood in the large foyer and looked up. it was vaulted and plastered, like a tiny cathedral encasing her it came to a point in the center and was spotted with plaster roses. the most unique one so far, she lingered under it's canopy, transfixed.
in the living room now she took the place in. dark wood furniture next to immaculate muslin couches. the couches themselves stained a creamy coffee color. the floor was an expanse of beautiful hardwood upon which laid an olive colored cotton rug. end tables stood on spindly elegant legs, shined to a gloss. the ceiling in here was the lightest blue, and she could see a very faint ring around the corners, from a century of cigarettes. everything looked so new, even though she could smell the ghosts of living things. food, smoke, perfume, a vanilla musk that was so familiar it brought a smile to her lips. she came to a short stop at the deeply grained hutch opposite from where she had entered. two people sat and watched her from within a gilded frame. the man had his hand on her shoulder, they both smiled at something to her right. she found their crooked gaze strange and she laid the photo on it's face.
in the kitchen she sat at the metal table with her feet up and crossed as she ate heartily from a pint of ice cream found in the snow crusted freezer. this room was her favorite, she decided. and the most odd. just about every surface was covered in subway tiles... they were just everywhere. they poured down the walls and spread out onto the floor. they were white glazed and pocked with the tiny imperfections of things handmade. every 20 tiles or so, a colored tile slipped in. pastel pink, a foggy grey, sea foam. what an incredible feat, she thought. what a fucking waste of time. still, they worked like a time machine, they were untouched here, the colors lingered in her mind, it had worked. licking her fingers she brought her feet back to the floor and went to the sink. empty and clean, it was white as the walls. there was a little tremor in her hand as she whiffed bleach and pine, the hospital effect complete. rinsing her spoon in cool water she looked out the window, at the ash and birch bending in the wind, the black clouds looming.
i'm glad i missed the storm, she said, out loud, to no one.
back through the living room, to the foyer again, and she stood at the stairs. maybe she should skip the second floor this time. it was too hard to lose track of time there. a small flash went off in her brain, her hand came to her right temple. frowning she turned away from the dark steps.

The first day

Always learning, that we all got problems.

But it doesn't matter. Get your shovel.

2016

The new year brings promise and opportunity. But beyond the obvious it brings a test.
Can you do these things?
The incredible ideas, can you bring them to life?
Decisions to make, choices, a whirlwind.
This point in this life, a thought process of us, and separately, me.

Let's do some throwback, funny enough.

A list:

-I am in love, through and through, he's the completion, the other. His smile is a slow drug. I can't let him down.
-I am off, but strong. The door is barricaded again, the beast locked in. Avoid this door.
-I have an idea of a perfect life, my fingertips are brushing the blueprints, I can taste the ocean, I cannot give up.
-It's going to be ok. Even if it all burns down.

Short and strange.

I can only hope for the best. Hope that I mean to others what they mean to me. Hope for happiness.

Fingers crossed.

Hey, 2016.

Whatever

Damnit I get it, I'm fucking not right up there.
A little off.
I see it clearly but ride the waves unable to even doggy paddle, I'm in it but paralyzed.
I just... don't feel very good right now.

I feel like my chest is at capacity. There's
pressure, so much pressure. Hours and hours spent cross legged on a couch in a dark apartment. I'm all over the place internally, my emotions are fucking everywhere. Everywhere. I could probably scream pretty loud right now. I could punch something. There's no vent, there's no release. I feel sick and ridiculously impossible. This moment I'm in, I just can't understand it, even though it's forever familiar. I know I'm being an idiot. I know I'm far too needy. So I'm trying to step back and gauge. I have to figure out how to calibrate this immediately. Because no one likes this person, how can anyone like this person. Who wants nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry for a few hours. I feel like I'm melting.  Oh my goodness, it's ok. It's ok.

I hope I wake up from this.

My family wants me to go see them. But I simply don't want to... seeing a few of them at Christmas was enough. My memories are from a child's perspective, glossed and extravagant. But the ones who I really connect with are out of country or dead and the rest are loud and confusing. Country music and chisme. I've never liked sleeping anywhere that wasn't a place I loved. Even staying here is very hard, but the idea of having to stay there, at a cousin's house makes me shake. I know, it's ridiculous.

I can't go to her house, probably won't see her until actual labor, and he barely talks to me and doesn't seem to want to. I try to start conversations, try to see if I can't get a laugh or something but it doesn't work. He's bitter and takes cheap shots. Sigh.

It's new years and I'm miles away from the one I love but that's probably ok because I smother everything, and he seems fine.
I'm acting like a stupid girl, grabbing my phone in the morning hoping for love notes and finding nothing. Romantics are the most naive type of people. But I'm not ready to give that part of myself up yet. I like being whimsical, I give what would make me happy. But sometimes it's met with a light chill and in this state it hurts so bad.

I'm fine. I know this. I'm just overwhelmed with loneliness and I've been hungry too often the past week. My brain is just being an asshole. I'm fine.

I just need to vent. I need to learn to open that release at a safe distance from others. The crazy will whoosh out, and leave me alone as it sinks. Right? Leave me alone, you stupid cloud, you crazy internal animal. Just go away.

I'm out of ideas. Happy New year.

luna

tonight we went out to a little lounge.
i wasn't expecting much, to be honest, i hardly wanted to go at all.
i hardly want to do anything lately it feels like.

but luna was small and full of color, each wall it's own. the main area, to the right, was draped in thick velvet curtains than cascaded down to a small stage. we were the first to arrive and we settled into a booth. the ceiling was low and full of dark beams, prints plastered the walls. a green glass bar curved out from the left, and shimmered in the dim lighting. i don't know what i was expecting. i was lost in thought and longing.
talking about movies and music, we watched the band set up.

and the music started.

they were an odd bunch, there on the stage. a tall lanky man with dreadlocks on the drums. a shorter, stockier guy with a chin beard and plugs on the electric guitar. another man, this one so casual in a baseball windbreaker and thick rimmed black glasses on piano. and this woman with a beautiful smile, wild hair, and an acoustic guitar stood at the mic.

they just started playing. she was wailing, in this special deep way. in a language i didn't recognize. eddie leans over and tells me she knows four languages, she's self taught, she works at a university. he says, the guy on the drums is from the virgin islands. these people i don't know, they are waking something up inside of me.

there is a little dance floor, dappled with lights from above in a moving colorful rain. a girl walks out to the floor and dances alone, she has a short hair cut, a page boy hat. tee shirt and baggy jeans, she moves in a masculine way, her hips back and her arms bent at her waist. the lead singer smiles openly and seems to sing just to her a moment as out on the floor the lone girl turns and steps, turns and steps. i wish i was that brave, that passionate sometimes.

the bar has filled to capacity. couples start to stand and move together, clutching hands and smiling.

there are these two, though. these two i cannot tear my eyes away from. for the life of me, i'm fascinated.

he stood up from the table and he's so tall. smiling down at her he holds out his hand, bowed just a touch. she flips her hair and stands to follow him. she's so much shorter but it hardly matters. a vision, in a tight maroon top and even tighter jeans to his much more casual messy hair and mauve v neck. when they reach the floor he turns to her and they embrace in a swan like gesture, her arms opening arched and up, head tilted, as his reach down to her waist.

meanwhile the band plays a magical cuban song, not slow, but even and sensual. maya, the lead singer is named maya, she sings in deep long tones.

the two on the floor seem to fold into one another, her head on his chest they move their hips in sync and each let an arm drop to the side to curl fingers together, as their other hands meet in the air. every now and again he turns her, as if to present her to the world, her sheets of brown straight hair sweeping out before settling in again around her shoulders. as he moves to  her, he drapes his whole arm around her neck and pulls her close before letting his arm go to her back, to her waist, to her face again. they twirl and shift, they steal kisses and mouth the words of the song. his hands linger in her hair and she just beams up into his gaze.

completely fluid, jesus, watching these two is changing my life.

i'm smiling and the music is everywhere in my head. bouncing around in there, banging on boarded doors, wiping dust from windows and peering in to see if anyone is awake.

the couple returns to their seat.

the band plays on. at one point the drummer points to a man in the crowd. an older gentleman, with a blue jacket, veterans cap, and silver hair. the man comes on stage to sit beside him, where the drummer has placed a bongo and a mic. the song changes from this linear thing to this new animal, studded with the new additions of pops and booms. these two wake everyone up. in tandem, they create a beat that feels like it's making my heart beat faster, stronger. this old man, he's got his head down and his eyes closed. they end the song in a furious rhythm, leaning in to each other, until finally throwing their hands up in surrender, as the crowd crows and claps. the two embrace and exchange a few words. the old man returns to his seat.

it was all so special. they play "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone". it's the second time i've heard it today... how odd.

i wish roger was here, he would have enjoyed the shit out of tonight. and i would like to take some dance classes.

i'm exhausted.

i hope i dream about music.

the truths

the truth is far less fun and interesting than what is imagined.

i hope it wasn't all imagined.

i have this idea in my head... well i have several ideas in my head. images and perceptions of the different stages and people in and out of this dysfunctional timeline. but i see now that i am truly delusional. how could i be so blind in the moment? what on this earth could keep me from realizing in the moment, that this fucking sucks.

i remember now why i fled. back then, emotions on fire in a white hot mess all around me. i've never understood this place. it all seemed so romantic from far away... but a foul smell lingers in the fibers of my clothes and mingles with an unpleasant metal taste. oh my god. it really is crystal clear.

see, when your life falls apart. not like a hiccup. not like a stumble. but when your life falls apart. when your in a white hospital room, probably on the third floor... i think... i tried to count in the elevator... when you're in this room you are all of a sudden fully awake. you follow the lines of the curtains with your eyes. blue. cornflower blue. textured nicely. you breathe in deep and everything smells clean. there is a deep disappointment within your heart. that you couldn't do it. that instead, last night in a dim bathroom, you called a 1-800 number that swore it could help. when you are there... you never expect, or even want to to gather pieces, to put it back together. but somehow, by some great feat. here i am. and i know why. i got the fuck out.

the roots i have here are toxic, black and sick. i don't understand my family and friends, and to be honest i don't care to try to. recently, it's been magnified. i just don't care. or i am heavily bewildered. how do i fit into this? why am i so uncomfortable? people i thought i knew are frustrating and simple. there is no satisfaction in conversation, i am left annoyed and empty. it's like they were only keeping spaces warm for what i would consider real memories. real things. it's like most of these people i cling to were fading images in the sun. 

see, my brain embraces only the strongest things. meaningful. bright. i chatter with some of my cousins earlier and while they, as strange loud disconnected people, fade in and out immediately, the stories we touch on burn bright and fiercely in my head. how has my brain transformed memories into near fiction? fantasy? my enjoyment in my family died with my brother i guess. the separation began then, alienation. and now all i am made of, my history, is blurry around the edges, it's just a bunch of stories. i don't know how, but it doesn't bother me. i don't think i could care any less. jesus. it feels fine. i used to fall apart at realizations like this but now, it's damn near comforting, 

i'm glad i left. at first i wasn't. i was homesick and sad for a place i had created in false memories and stupid beliefs, i was so naive. but goddamnit, i can't believe i waited so long, it brought things to life, into light, and it blew all the smog and glass shards out of the cavernous depths of my head. 

it's too much to go into, the time away, but the brightest light flickers in and out of my mind's eye almost hourly. and that's being with roger out on the boat, anchored in a green river. gently rocking constantly i can feel the wet warm air as i sit in the cockpit. 

Galina is wide and beautiful, i have fallen in love with her almost as deeply as i have with him. this curious man with a golden smile, tinged with a line of sadness. there are many seconds aboard the boat that i stopped and thought... i cannot believe this is my life. i cannot believe this is real. watching purple sunsets and fretting over the outboard, catching glimpses of dolphins and watching other boats pour from the canal to Rosen. even right now, that feels closer to the start of my life than my own birth, i connect with that time more than time with my own blood. 

what does that mean?

i miss roger. texas has nothing for me now. i was ridiculously mistaken. i just want to be home, in our bed. i want to be where he is and walk in line with him towards a goal that is fruitful and strengthening, 

it sounds strange. but i just want my real life. and i'm not sure if i'll ever come back to this, my old sad city, again, 

the changes, it's all changing

so you know i really thought that coming home for a while would be pretty cool. but me, well, i'm something of a spectacular idiot. or maybe i'm being dramatic. but probably not.
the east side is beautiful right now, it being christmas time and all. the little houses are strung with lights and gawdy decorations. it's mild with a beautiful breeze... the trees are shedding.
but i'm itchy. confused. i came to expecting too much.
something has to be wrong with the way i perceive things. the meanings and feelings, i'm not processing them correctly. what's wrong with me?
i don't know these people anymore, the ones i thought were the most important. the ones i was so sure i couldn't live without.
my favorite, the woman i've known forever. we used to plan our whole lives together. we sat on the bus to middle school, where we ran with two separate groups, and try to get in as much nonsense as we could before we arrived. she would lay her legs across me and pout into a compact, laying on lip gloss and contemplating her skin. in high i would steal away every weekend to her house and lounge on her bed while she danced in front of her vanity in various vignettes: laden with black blue hair dye, singing to coldplay and chattering about debate team, talking about all the things we were going to do with ourselves after we escaped the hell that was adolescence. at that time i was spiraling, lost in a grey fog of self harm and depression. one day, after i had had a particularly bad night, she strode into my english class mid period and took me in her arms and told me she loved me and i should love me too. it was surreal, like a movie. she was magic in front of me, aggressive and loyal, a pillar of her family that burned and crumbled around her. she was everything i needed in a friend. everything i could only hope to be in a woman. we even had an epic food fight bloom around us one day freshman year it was slow motion craziness... and when i was expelled and sent away we made it through three years of high school at separate schools. and so much incredibly awful stuff in the years that followed. she's my everything. but now she sits across from me and talks and i don't know her voice, i don't see her eyes. i haven't really been around her in a year. it's been so long. and here she is, 9 months pregnant, we're supposed to be happy, i'm supposed to be making her laugh, she's supposed to be babbling about the little man inside her and instead it's a hollow copper sound in my head. she's resigned and tired. i can't even go to her house. i don't give a fuck how selfish i sound, i just want to be near my best friend before the baby comes and i really lose her forever. i asked her if she loves the man who lives with her and her mouth curled and she shrugged. it broke my heart. if this is goodbye i at least want to be near her. i want tell her it's going to be ok. but her voice has an edge and i just have to smile and nod. it's my problem. and i'm being unreasonable. right? damnit.
i don't know.
it's also that i can't seem to leave the house.
nerves get me. i had breakfast alone today.... it was so very strange. i want to go out and see my city. but i found i got a few blocks out the door and just stood there, counting my quarters... frozen and a little shaky. am i really so dependent on others? i can't be this fragile. the yards looks so green and the wind was perfect.... but i just gave up. i miss the barns and the birds. i don't feel the same about my old neighborhood, even though i always seem to think i want to come back here. how does this make sense.
i'm lonely i guess. the only person i want next to me is states away. i'm just so confused. i obviously can't function.

i wish i was better at adulting. sigh.

i wonder if anyone else questions everything

there are flies everywhere in this house. i can hear them.
man, it gets a little dramatic in here doesn't it?
like glittery red curtains open and the sad show of my black lined mentality begins. fanfare and candy wrappers sing out while i stand center stage to shout about what hurts and how. sometimes i really annoy myself.
there is a fly in the lamp closest to me, sizzling and buzzing against the shade and the bulb. probably in a strange ecstatic confusion, overcome by light and the weird fly urges that control it. i know this general feeling, dude. but still, please die.
it's just. what the fuck. why the fuck. i sludge through afternoons wondering what will become of me. with a sometimes distant partner who seems confused by my attention. well i don't know. it's hard to read people. it's gotten harder i think. i am watching my youth disappear from under me. the light flowing under a door and into the world.... without me. i am coming to the point where i have to decide what is going to happen here. this is life right? this is 30 now. this is a third of the way through and you still don't mean very much to the people you assume are important. are you important. god, am i important. i feel like a take it or leave it kinda girl, a thanks for hanging out kind of chick, a hey i mean while you're here kind of broad on the edge of already being forgotten. and i feel like a fucking idiot for feeling so deeply about them.
about these liars, the people really actually probably doing nothing wrong. i mean, we can only really look out for ourselves right? isn't that the key to my own philosophy? so how can i hold this against anyone? what gives me the right to be angry or sad. disappointed? empty. what on earth was i expecting?
that was probably my problem all along. i should have really heard him when he told me not to expect, how can these expectations be anything, just don't ok?
i should really work on that grounding shit.
right?
oh god fuck that. you know the beautiful thing about this blog is i can go back and really see my feelings. and yea most of the time i just want to give myself a hug and wipe tears and blood away, but i can also see that streak of the right kind of crazy there. in those wild words i can feel my heartbeat. i remember days and nights of emotional disasters but i can remember waking up after with a bemused thought of damn i'm actually still alive. i am proud of myself, downright amazed that even though i was picking myself apart i stayed alive and i stayed coherent and i skipped the needles and took the joints and for every person who broke me down those walls were always magically miraculously built up again. fresh. unscarred. unlike my physical skin my unseen skin is clear and soft and open. i gave each person a new smile even when so many had decided before that i wasn't worth the time. that this broken girl was a lost cause or desperate enough to follow like a shitty sick puppy. how many people just said fuck this and left, spent nights silently uncaring before walking out the room and to a bed that had become a cell. but i'm unchanged.
i am proud of this.
i am happy for it.
goddamn it this is amazing.
i don't really think i can stress over the little things. i'm a grownup now. right. grown. but i also need to be my own thing. i need to be separate. i'm sure my heart is strong but i can't be too careful.
i just mean that i'm not really dreading destruction anymore.
my old friend, i'm always there for you, the way you have been for me.
let's start act 2.

Fuck it

There are days when I feel... pretty great.
Then, I wake up.
I realize that I've let the goofy, naive, stupid part of me win and I'm wide open, soft parts showing, belly up and just asking for it. Drop the axe, baby, give it to me good. Tear at the pieces you can see, when the pain hits, I'll just close my eyes. Head back, mind exploding in fireworks of confusion and synapses, I'll try to bury myself. I'll try to ignore it. I'll tell myself: I'm ok. I'll tell myself: next time it'll be different. Letting this happen, I'll be so sure I've earned something like love. But in reality, the pieces never grow back, and these scars only layer into a rough scary armour. I wonder when it will happen. When I won't feel anything anymore.

i'm fucking trying

i doubt that anyone who has felt the massive crushing weight of an out of nowhere sadness, that rusty dragging needle over the softest parts of an already struggling heart, i doubt that they can stand without shaking. even on the warmest day. the sun stays out sometimes, sure. i see her up there. burning so hot- and i still sometimes just want to crawl into her arms and burn away to nothing.

but it can't stay like this. i think i can be stronger.
i have to be, really. because i am not losing this.
this constant shitty fight.
i won't lose him, i won't lose myself.
i have to be stronger.

where do i start?

the. same. old. shit.

I drag back here to vomit my sadness.
Leaving, usually, with the hope I'll never return.
But my shattered life won't allow it.
After all I've been through.
All I thought I deserved.
I still feel ... just like this.

keep trying

But you will never be forgiven for your sins.