stop

stop following me around in these circles. don't tell me about how it gets better. don't pretend that not having to jog makes it okay to not have two working legs.

it is spring time and i miss little things like being able to walk these streets. my bike. the run.

the doctors are concerned and there don't seem to be any easy answers. just drugs with miserable side effects (like menopause - it's a long story) and surgeries that include too many surgeons. too many hands.

and again and again i need you and again and again you are not there.

and i would rather sit alone with this. (sit because i can't stand. if it were up to me i would do everything in a run).

and it's not up to me. and i am not frida kahlo.

but i just may end up being the one who leaves before she knows what she has done.

and really

there is no guarantee that any of us will survive.

that thing before.

i am not going to try to convince you.
i am not going to bang my head against your wall.
i don't care what is true.

there is sunshine and a list of lies.

there is rosemary bread and a bag of dried peas.

i have let bygones be and i have turned the other cheek and
i do what i say i am not going to do
'cause fuck i am only human.

i have tried but i can't stop being me.

promise me your curses and i will close my eyes.

i am trying

i am trying best i can.

but it is hard to work at an office full of stairs when you have a dead leg and mono.

i am more than tired. i am more than exhausted. i have spent months in bed with visiting nurses and attendants to clean me. i have spent weeks in the hospital on heart monitors watching day time television on a tiny tv. i have been sick before.

but this is hard.

this sunday is the ms walk. i have been doing it for years. this year i will be watching from the finish line with all the other handicapped people. and no one is walking for my disease. and there is no power in being left behind.

why oh why can't i...

some days i remember that night a couple weeks before ivan took his life. i called him and he didn't answer but instead texted me that he really wanted to talk but he had friends over. he said he would try to get them too leave. he texted me at 2 am that they were gone and asked me to call him. i heard the phone, woke up, and told him i was too tired. i left for europe a couple days later and we didn't speak again - just a couple of texts. he stopped taking my calls.

and all i can think is that i had a chance. he gave me a chance.

and i blew it.

and it feels like suffocating every time i think of it. these things are no ones fault but maybe it was a little bit mine.