waitingtakesthelifeoutofme.com

how long can you hold your breath? how still can you sit? how many weeks can you wait?

the days pass so slow. hood up. face down. counting ring tones and tv shows and assigning tasks to pass the time. bake some cookies, clean the stove, do some laundry, make lists. places you will go. places you will eat. recipes to cook. presents to buy. things to-do. people to-be. moments to-look-forward-to.

you think you know it all. you think you know what love is. until it happens. and you realize, you never really knew. and its not until the breaking that you realize what all these months you have been making. and its not until you tell all the truths that you know what you have done and what it has become. and you said you wanted to be a little destroyed but that was before you knew what destroying really felt like. but you wouldn't take it back because you sit there watching the walls cave in and all you can say is don't go, don't go, there is nothing left but please. don't. go. and that is when you know that you never knew what love was before. and that is when you know that you never knew how to tell the truth before. and that is when you know that they can bury you with the house. bury you with those eyes. bury you where you lie. because you are not going to go without him. because there is nowhere left to go. because where would you go? because he was your home. and you couldn't know. until you know.

so much depends on the u and i of it. so much depends on just making it through to another day.

work

love takes work. it takes forgiveness. the honesty to say, it's both of our fault. i was there too. i should have. i could have. if only i had done it different maybe you would not have... and you can't go back. and you can apologize but you can't take those things away. you can only move forward. you can only know what you know. and if you are in love there is no question. there is no where else to go.

i will spend the rest of my life forgetting you

last night i sat in the bath til the water got cold and my fingers shriveled like raisins. i listened to the Saddest Songs. i cried until my face was wet and my throat felt dry.

it's not like these things go away.

it's not like you forget.

it's just the way it's going to be. and that gets easier. doesn't it?

and so. it's monday morning. the sun is shining. my desk at work is exactly the way i left it. the clients still call. the grants still need to be written. i am meeting friends in harvard square. will buy a wallet for him. some leggings for me. at 5:30 i have acupuncture. for lunch i will eat almonds. an apple. stupid everyday things.

and it reminds me. and it remembers me.

and some times everything is the same and that is okay.

disintegration

i get it. i hear you.

i know.

you hate me. you tell me all the time. in all the ways.

and frankly i can't even care anymore. i am tired.

and.

i just need a break.

little earthquakes

it's been a long time since tori amos has spoken to me.
been a while since i have lost my ability to speak.
when you said i was the love of your life i believed you.
face pressed against black metal fence.

a little less than a happy high, a little less than a suicide

the dog is mine. don't you dare. don't you try.

because i can take you. and the dog is mine.

and i never thought he would be this way? and i never thought it would come to this?
and all my naive proclamations like oh no, not that, not us. we are kind people. we are adults. we made this decision together and we are going to be alright.

and what the hell did i know. why did anyone listen to me? how could i know i have never been divorced before. hell i married this guy. that's how good my judgment is. shit i once dated a guy who kicked me out of a moving car. don't listen to me. don't ask me. i don't know anything.

yesterday i would have told you that i was the most tired i have ever been but also the most full of hope. that i was on the brink of the best love. that i was on the brink of the best me. i would have asked you to be happy for me.

today i want to smash bottles on the street. i want a promise that i will land on my feet. so tell me something. tell me something else. because i am not in the mood but i might listen to you.

it turns out its only thursday and i spent the morning celebrating friday.

and i just need you to hold me.

(count the hours. remove the seeds.)

the happiest day of our lives....

maybe you didn't know that my mom was in the hospital the 9 days before my wedding. that she got out the day before. that i spent the week pacing my childhood hallways wondering what a wedding would be like without her. if i could take my honeymoon not knowing. the not knowing.

everything was beautiful, everything went smoothly, everyone had a good time, everywhere i looked i felt love, but my wedding day was not the day of girlhood dreams. me running around trying to do all those things, trying to care about flower arrangements and cake fuckin plates and how can you care when your mother might be... and a tropical storm came and people asked stupid questions like what should they do if it rains and my mother was too tired to help me with my hair and my sister over slept and i got ready and i felt alone and the stress of it all ohmygod the stress. i couldn't see straight. i didn't even notice tropical storm hannah pouring so much rain there had to be trenches and i didn't even notice josh's family throwing their disapproval every which way i didn't even notice the food trays or the beers that no one took out of the cases when they put them on the ice. i didn't notice anything but that she was there. because she was there.

people ask me now about my wedding. did i have fun? did i know then?

and it was an amazing week. nearly every single person i loved in once place at one time. all those hands lifting me up. after my illness and then my mothers. mygod i needed that. who doesn't? i needed that. it was amazing.

and i don't know what i knew then. only that i was so scared of the dying. only that i was so scared of losing more. only that i was so tired of hospital beds and visiting hours and the things that surrounded my life then. there was too much fog to see with any clarity. with blurry edges and dim dim light all i knew was that i got through the day unhitched, my mother was safe, and that i could finally take the time to start really living again.

around the way girl

who says you can't escape. who says a change of space won't help you breath. who says dreams don't come true.

i am closing the gap. i am embracing my romantic notions. i am filling in oceans with postcards and plane rides. i am handing back my tether, i am handing over my what-ifs. i am learning to more than survive. i believe in this.

i am leaving for paris & travels in spain in two and a half weeks. it's close enough finally to feel real. to picture the hotel beds, to taste the food, to feel the air. i can't wait to just be away. to just breath. to walk streets that don't even know me. to drink, to eat, to dance. to sleep through the night. to wake up rested. to laugh. ohmygod. you wouldn't believe how we laugh. you wouldn't believe how light i feel when we do. you wouldn't believe how it makes me feel/reel/revel. and it will be just enough. just right. just.

and this time i am running towards something. i am not running away. i am not holding vigil. i am not waiting for the shoe to drop. and all i want is to journey. all i want is this journey. all i want is this chance. this hope. this feeling i have like no matter what happens, no matter who stays, i am going to be okay. it is all okay. and there is nothing to be afraid of. nothing i want to get away from. nothing to run away from. anymore.

let's get high

i am wearing my coffee-wings right now. i.feel.pumped.up. i found two tootsie rolls in the pocket of my dress. i listened to loud music on the train. i saw a guy almost hit a squirrel on my walk to the T. he saw my face, braked-hard, saved the little guy, gave me the thumbs up and laughed.

it's a i-know-what-i-want-so-be-it-or-leave-it sorta day.

my high school boyfriend used to say i was salty. i am feeling pretty salty today.

waiting

i had a dream i was on some tarmac and i was waiting for him to get home and i was watching the faces go by, arms catching outstretched arms, people reaching, people holding. and he didn't come. and i was looking down the line. watching the furthest body, searching every outline. i started to cry walking across that dusty field, never looking away, knowing what i knew. he was somewhere, he would come, it's just that sometimes the waiting feels like it's breaking you right in two.

counting

today i counted my expenses, my earnings, my this and that. divorce paper financials. it's really just a business transaction now. you owe me this for all these years. but the real gains, the real losses don't show up on these sheets. don't have anything to do with raises and bonuses and credit card bills. but it's harder to explain these other things.

it's harder to put into lists and dollars the wisdom that comes with confusing what feels safe for what is healthy.

and i am not afraid anymore. not of falling in love, not of being destroyed, not of being with someone who can see the real me.

and just maybe things like fate and soulmates aren't just storybook sweets.

alone

i am alone in my office. i teach a financial fitness class every saturday this month to a group of women who make getting up on a saturday morning seem like a good idea. these women make me want to push through. sometimes it's not what you did or what you have its the people who surround you. i love these classes.

...

last night was not good. i made dinner, i set the table nice. i somehow believed that we would be the couple to defy all divorce story odds. we would stay friends. we would believe in eachother. we would be kind to ourselves, our pasts and eachother.

that was not the case.

we fought. he dissapointed me. i found myself mad when he said things that sounded like he was doing the right thing for himself finally (why can you do that now if you wouldn't do it the five years we were together and i begged you to) and mad when he said things that sounded like he was still making the same tired lethargic decisions (what will it take for you to hit rock bottom and just deal with your things). it's like no matter what he did i felt let down.

and also responsible. like i don't know if he can do it without me. and somehow that made me feel sad. like i was abandoning my own child. and i can't keep doing this for him. i can't keep righting his wrongs. i can't FIX THIS or FIX HIM or make him care or engage or change. but it made me feel bad/sad/helpless/.

so he left and i sat on a chair and i cried. and i didn't listen to anything. and i didn't say one word to anyone. because there is really nothing to say. just that it didn't work, i can't save him, and we definately can't be friends.

the saddest song

keep throwing punches. keep ducking low. keep remembering the things you said that i never meant to hear. that i never meant to know.

i need you so much closer

because it's hard with you so far away. because the days are long and it's not as fun to cook for one. because you said things that i believed and then the days turned to weeks and the oceans turned into worlds and you are a world away. and this month is getting me down. the yearly doctors appointments reminding me that i will never be like everyone else. the echocardiograms, the field vision tests, the secret patient world i am so good at slipping into. i don't like the way it feels to be me, there. i don't like the way it feels when the doctors tell me i am one of their youngest patients. i don't like the way it feels when they say i am lucky or unlucky or they sigh or touch my hand or make statements like 'wow you have certainly been through alot of this for someone your age'. i mean i don't know what i expect them to say. i meant hell it is quite a story. but i don't like the way it feels. i don't like the way i feel today. i don't like crying in a hospital bathroom alone after a series of arrythmias prompted further tests and the probe in my ribs doesn't feel good and the doctor moving my boob around to get a better "window" to my heart doesn't feel good and you are far away and that doesn't feel good and i am tired and i don't need an ultra sound machine or an ekg to tell me that my heart hurts today.

life advice from a 31 year old divorcee

don't marry the tin man.

keep your love locked down

i am sitting at my desk at work staring at my gatorade, staring at my smart water, staring at the computer screen, the to-do list, the newsletter notes, the blinking red light on my phone, staring, staring, staring. but my belly still hurts like HURTS and kanye west keeps telling me to keep my love locked down my love locked down and i want to dance and i want to scream and i am discontent and temperamental and over sensitive and under nourished and i'm not loving you the way i wanted to...

we

sometimes i forget and i still make statements with the "we". sometimes i still buy mayo even though i never even eat that stuff. sometimes i wonder if he is working late.

Effin Clams

so i got food poisoning. a bad clam. a bad effin night. gross things happened. the er. dumb drugs. iv's. tachycardia. its not a new drill for me. lay on a stretcher. look around. try to figure out what room it was that i laid in that night not ready for the dying or the living that came after. try to recognize a nurses face. hope that its not that same bad doctor. yeah i don't like cape cod hospital. yeah i don't have the best memories of the place. but i can go now without that quake inside. it's getting better.

today, my belly still hurts. i am swimming. i am alone. nothing inside me but gatorade. and i am bummed out.

i will always find the bad clam. i will always take the best fall. i will always land on my feet.

...

it's like learning how to love all over again. it's like watching the sun circling you. it's like ordering pudding and getting creme brulee.

lost

there are things i had. things i lost. a bread machine. a pretty ring. a hand to open every single door for me. he never stopped. he never forgot me. he always made promises that he couldn't keep.

i have always believed. i have always held on.

but now, and lately. i am not sure what to hold on to.

you'd think that doing the papers would just be a formality. the next step on the to-do list. but i haven't slept well in two nights. i made lists of reasons in my head of why i should post-pone this evening. i started to cry listening to npr. the truth is that i am not convinced that i will ever find someone i can rely on like this ever again. oh i will have head spinning love. i will have adventures. i will have boys at my door, marriage proposals, all these stupid fantasys that i will only pretend i can believe in still. i will laugh away nights over enchiladas and chimachangas at the local spot. but i don't know if i will ever find someone to rely on like this again.

and then i think. fuck em all. at least i have me. and then i think. fuck them all. it's always been. and it will always be.

liz phair, morning light, and dreams that you hope don't come true

it's true they were more like nightmares. more than nightmares. things that could come true. things he might say about me. i woke up screaming in a paper cup. because there is nothing to say. really. because no one can save me from this day. really.

because liz phair was talking about me when she sang those words, fuck and run.

because i put on my new balances, i stretched my quads and i am perched at the starting line and i am ready to go.

mostly

i like walking through a house that has been touched by no one but me. i like finding my keys and my book and my gross work out clothes right where i left them. i like the quiet. i like the moment. i like the movement. i like eating bok choy in ramen for dinner. i like the sound of the leaves brushing against the side of my house.

i mean there are things. i mean there are moments. i mean being alone can be lonely. i want to go apple picking. do you want to go? i want to chase the sun. can you come?

even with all this. even without. i need the quiet moments to watch my netflix and to cry because she lost or he left or true love doesn't always win.

i am trying to be happy. i am doing the things. acupuncture, exercise, yoga breathing, eating well. warm baths. angry letters. good friends. international calls. i am trying to be happy.

and mostly, i am.

Algorithms

If only there were algorithms for life. Some sort of guarantee. Some way of knowing how you will get there. Not that I would use them. Not that I believe in those kinds of anything. Not that I listen anyway.

Autumn is here. My nose is cold but I like wearing the sweaters. I like the staccato to the days.

These past months I have talked endlessly to my friends about love. The how-do-you-know. The can-you-be-happy. God knows I have not always had the kindest lovers. I have passed years with hands that only wanted to hurt me. Josh was the safety net after all of the turmoil. And I needed that net. And I loved that net. And it felt good to be held. To not have to give anything back. But I need more than a place to lay my head. I need more than a hand that locks the door behind me. After California I swore off any love that could ever fufill me... because I knew, then, how it feels when that love leaves. And I didn't think I could lose even one more thing.

But I need to survive. I need to more than survive. I want someone so completely for me they can tell me to stop, to start quicker, to quiet down. I want someone who can see me. Who I can tell anything too. Someone who will still be there for me. I am tired of living with one body and secreting my life in letters and text messages trying to find the words that i need.

Because all those years before that is what I did.

To not feel alone.

Some people, some "friends", some strangers act as though I am not trying. Like I should make it work. Like some vow made during broken times is worth living a life of loneliness. Quiet. Despair.

And it's not that I won't put in the time. I am not afraid of the commitment or the ways that love changes. But I married someone because they made me feel safe. Because he took me to the hospital and physical therapy and on wheelchair outings to the mall. Because he didn't seem to care about the medications and the crutches and the tired way I passed my days. We have been through it and I love him for that but I am not in love. I am not fufilled. I am not getting the wifely things that I would need to be happy today, tomorrow or five years from now. And I won't drag out the good-bye to say I tried hardest. And I won't spend my life resenting someone because they aren't the person I want them to be. And I won't make it work just to prove that I can.

Because I am not afraid and I would rather be destroyed than never feel happy.

And the streets of Kazakhstan and the streets of Central Square, they are full of faces who every day are making hard things work. Days spent running circles around circles praying to an unfair God for some break, some chance, something to take them away.

And I don't have to do that. And this is something I can change. And if everyone just made it work because they could there would be no revolutions. There would be no civil rights and there would be no walks on Washington.

You don't have to go along just because it's what the rest of them do.

And I will never walk that road just to be more like you.