Looking through some old folders I found this thing from I dunno, a year ago. I liked it, so thought I'd put it up.
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I spent a year in a fugue. Thinking. If you asked me now what I thought about I couldn’t tell you. Well, I could, but you wouldn’t understand. Understand how I could spend a year on the same 6 pieces of information. Worrying them until they unraveled and became meaningless. Not realizing that misery wasn’t the end result, but a means to nothing. Or maybe you know how it goes. How when you’re in it, it’s all there is. No light at the end of the tunnel. You know the tunnel is limited, you know that someday you’ll find your way out, you’re just not concerned with turning someday into now. Until you realize.
And one day I did. It was a Wednesday, and I was going to see some friends for dinner. Force myself out of the house into human company because someone told me that was supposed to help. I sat on the floor on my knees and put my head down and let some sobs escape. There’s a harsh sound that comes from your throat when you’re wracked with emotions that don’t make sense. Emotions you’ve already had for days, weeks, months. You don’t need them anymore but you don’t know anything else. And it’s a Wednesday, so you kneel on the floor and put your head down, hug yourself and cry. When you’re
done you clean up, put on makeup (no mascara) and go outside. You put on your hat and scarf and exit. Go to your friend’s house and eat dinner as if nothing is wrong. Even they don’t buy it. They know, but they feed you and let you be. They walk you home or not, whatever you want. But the problem is; nothing is what you want. And so you realize, and you make changes. You make it work and you make yourself clean. Force yourself down the tunnel into the light. Even if it’s still dim, it’s lighter. Easier to carry. It’s a relief but you don’t feel the relief because there’s no point in worrying about it anymore. And one day you don’t even carry it with you. You’re free.
And then somebody loves you, and you exhale, just a little, and wait to see what goes wrong. What gets fucked up this time? When does it turn? But it doesn’t turn. Somebody loves you and they turn down the bed for you. Somebody cares and they look at you and smile, make you coffee and wash your back. Somebody draws you a bath and puts you into bed and somebody hugs you and keeps you awake at night with their snores.
You tell yourself it isn’t what you want, and it’s not going to be. And then suddenly it is. It’s just what you want. A friend who’s more than a friend. Someone to talk to, sit with silently, and someone who you return nice favors in kind. Who it feels as good to give to as get from. But then there it is, the other shoe drops, and it’s gone. You’ve already been through the tunnel so you don’t go back, you just sit there in the dim light and wait for spring, knowing you could do more than wait, but not doing it.
Do you ever think you pull away more from the people you like the most? A defense mechanism. Stay away from spilling it all, make yourself not care, not want to tell. So much so that eventually, you think you don’t like them so much anymore. How could you like them if you don’t want to let them in? If you want to keep it all to yourself? Hide it away and fix it before anyone really sees it. Fight your way through your tunnels and prove you're worth it. Finally come through that tunnel, stand up tall, look around. And you’re alone with no one next to you. And where are they? It doesn’t matter. They’ve all gone.
Posted by allison at November 22, 2005 07:37 AMGood stuff.
There's a perverse comfort you get from having learned there's actually a bottom to the abyss and, hey, you've been there. Comes in handy sometimes, like an old, ugly, journeyed blanket you keep in the closet; totally unpresentable for any houseguest, but there for you, just you, on bitterly cold nights, when you need it.
Posted by: Mai Tai's Too Short at November 22, 2005 08:34 AM