petty

something about the breaking in breaking up makes me feel petty. makes me feel owed. makes me forget that i did those things because i wanted to then. i can't take it back now. i can't collect back rent from those days in providence. i can't take back the futon i gave him even if he puts it in storage so he can buy a bed. it's not about being fair. shit's not fair or unfair. right or unright. it just is. and i am not petty. say what you say. and i feel petty. i am not always this way.

and i miss things like grocery shopping together. like roasting chestnuts and buying the mull spices for cider we would never even make. and i miss the familiarity of those holidays. and i wouldn't go back if i could. and i wouldn't take it back if you made me. and i don't want that life again.

but it is christmas time. and it is gray. and the sky reminds me of those hardest days.

sleeping on my side. a pillow holding my thighs from the drain. the pulse of the hematoma so strong it kept me flat in bed.

and it is christmas time. and try as i might i can't pretend things like santa claus and holy children anymore. and it all seems so rushed.

and i wanted an advent calendar and a wreath for my door and instead i have a divorce proceeding and a list of chores.

been around the world and i, i....

so in these days.
the "anniversary" of my accident has come and gone. i have eaten turkey and pumpkin pie and chocolate croissants and scallion pancakes and so much jamon you wouldn't even believe it. i have slept in over-sized hotel beds in southern spain, taken the terrifying elevator up the eiffel tower, driven through olive fields following spanish signs i could not read and peed on the side of the high way in ireland.

it's not like going away takes it away. but the distance. felt good. and the perspective. got wider. and the freedom of no one knowing me on the street. of not even having to listen to the chatter because it doesn't speak my language.

and so we passed the days eating, and sitting, and holding hands, and drinking wine.

here, at home, the landlord still asks for josh and the checkbook still needs to be balanced and the floor needs to be vacuumed and the air is cold but christmas is right around the corner and i saw the pixies last night and i ate the most delicious piece of chocolate pecan pie.

and so.

message in a box

i came back.

bon voyage

i am off. i will not have my computer in europe.

i will return fatter and happier.

you can be sure.

coffee & dreams

i am turning over a new leaf.

getting away but i am not leaving it behind.

postcards. cafes. coffees. towers. the kinds with lights.

cheeses and jamon. i am gonna eat and i'm gonna love and i am gonna do it to it like it's never been done.

and it will be just very.

and it will feel just right.

and i won't have to pretend those things i have to pretend here to make you okay with the idea that i am divorcing and leaving and loving and not so broken that i am not okay. i won't have to check with you about whether it's okay to not be sad anymore. i won't have to down play my happy because it makes you question your boyfriend or your husband or the things you've learned to turn away.

because the truth is that while this is all hard as shit. while this is a shit show some days that even i don't care to watch. for the most part. and deep down. i have left the comfort of a dear darling friend for a life full of adventure. for a happiness that comes from being okay with me. for the freedom to fail and hard and as high as i want to. for the companionship of a love that tells me to listen better and tell the truth and to take a time out when my talk gets crazy.

this is hard.

but sometimes the right thing is a hard thing to do.

and i am tired to trying to be only as happy as you see fit.
i am tired of having to live my life quietly so as to not upset you.

so hear me. screaming. watch me. running. feel the way it feels to be the first one in your world to tell the truth.

so
tag.
you're
it.

and this doesn't mean i won't still love you.

journeys

i didn't sleep well. i had bad dreams. weird ones. woke up unimpressed. undecided. uninterested in seeing anything. doing anything. knowing you. they were the piss off kind. all the things. boys kissing girls they shouldn't. people telling lies. belly aches. stupid so cal places. when i dream i am back in la its like i am dreaming about dying. that city and it's sunshine.

i leave for paris today at six. i can't muster up the things.

so maybe i'll have a sweet plane-meal. take an ativan. cause that's how i roll in the sky. i'll watch some romantic comedy and cry. think about how much i hate. all the things.

fuck. maybe a shower will help.

maybe i just need some coffee. or to smash the mouths. or to hold their ears to the fire.

i can't wait to divorce that family of faces that spent 5 years slandering me. i can't wait to stop saying 'i don't care what they say'. because i care. of course i care.

and this gray day has nothing nice for me to say today.

Not Sullen

Not Scared. Not Saved.
Not Escaping. Not Succumbing.

A Little Sexy.
A Little Learned.

Getting Closer.

Moving.

Avocado Smooth.

Cold As Your Camera Lens.

But Getting Closer.

Truncate Me.

Call Me Morning.

Touch My Failures and Feel Your Face In My Tides.

eff you.

of course it was coming. i have spent five and a half years trying to not listen to the talk they talk. that family. those christians. the kind that make you understand all those wars.

so judge me.

tell the story your way.

but the truth is you raised a son who hates you so much that 6.5 months later and he hasn't even told you he's filed papers to get a divorce. you never called. you never asked. you didn't know about the pregnancy, the miscarriage, or the years and tears that you took away.

what i feel for you is about as close as i have ever come to hate. the way you treat him. what you call love.

so call it my fault. create affairs or complications.

when the truth is a distant stranger told you of your sons demise based on facebook posts and internet rumors. and that is all you have. because this is what you've done.

doubt

i wanted you to be silent.
too.

notarized me

so today was the day. really yesterday was. and before that last friday. but every time i tried to get those papers back he was sick or was walking out the door or he forgot. when i met him at his work today he had them finally, all filled out. in pencil. really? did he really think that you could use pencil on a legal document? did he really think that could save this thing? because 6 months ago he wouldn't even consider therapy. six months ago he told me he didn't get involved on an emotional level. but we got what we needed notarized and i am sitting here waiting for him to bring his part to me. thursday i will file those papers at the courthouse. the reality of it feels like a brick falling on my chest. just the fact of the matter. it's just so unfamiliar to see him in such a formal setting. to exchange addresses and incomes and talk about the weather. to go from sharing a life to not even sharing a zip code. the guilt i feel when he walks out the door and i am relieved as i lock the deadbolt. and six months is long enough. lets purge. lets breath. lets let this thing go down....

someone asked me recently what they should do with all the pictures they have of my wedding. i don't know if i said anything but what i meant to say was keep them. look at them. it still happened. this doesn't change that day. i don't want to pretend this never was. i want to remember every little thing. to learn from those mistakes. to grow from that experience. so i still have my pictures. i still look at them. i still had a good time in mexico and nantucket and that time we drove to vermont and ended up in montreal. i am not asking anyone to take those things away.

it's just the ending that changed. it's just that there is an ending. it's just the ways that dependence can disguise itself as love. it's just that i realized i need something more. it's just that i remembered who i was who i meant to be. it's just that i am not willing to let fear (of falling in love with someone as strong as me, of doing it alone, of heart conditions and my stupid leg that doesn't always work) keep me from living my best life. from experiencing my best love. from becoming my best me.

on monday i leave on a plane to paris. the papers will be filed. a new chapter will begin. one that i hope leads to sequels and prequels and the kind of climaxes that are usually saved for late night television movies.

take me inside.

been waiting all my life. holding my breath. keep a vigil into the night. all that fear. all that forevering. all those promises i knew i could never keep. some days i wondered if i was even capable of that kind of love. the kind of loneliness that comes from a life of surviving. believing in everything is kinda the same as believing in nothing. and i believed in this strongly. i wouldn't say i gave up, it was more of a giving in. it's like i walked so far i didn't even realize where i had been. cold soft sounds of falling. the falling in. i am falling in.

for this.