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.

some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the blues.

life is messy. you say too much you hold back too long you can't get the time right. no matter how sure you feel someone will always think you are wrong. and it's the ups and downs. and it's the dusty skies. and it's the fire smolder, the sticky hands, the work meetings that start with thai food and end with you talking about pigeons with chicken feet in kazakhstan. it's all very.

i wouldn't ask you to listen. i won't plead my case. i don't even know if i care to see you again.

so i will write my promises on a bathroom wall. pledge my love and hope the right eyes read it. or i'll guns 'n roses your ass til i get it right.

because i have never felt so close. and i am ready to land from the fall.