I wonder if I can remember what his voice sounded like. The way he said my name because he knew I'd smile and laugh. I always think of him when I listen to my heavier music, knowing he'd find me silly for it, for that, of all things, being the thing I am pulled into the depths of my memories with him. It's been ten years and the pain of losing Robbie is not lesser. It's crushing me
It is recommended you climb a mountain at least once in your life. The ascension into losing most of your mind while seeking the furthest piece of enlightenment pulls even the strongest of warriors into a place they've never seen. Reaching with broken fingers, hoisting yourself onto the ledge, the final rise of your climb right as the sun bursts through is nothing short of primal and steals what is left of the breath in your mouth in a cry most desperate and bereft. Your eyes water, sending tears scalding as you gasp, overcome with delirium, odd shame, quiet pride--you were known before the earth was.
I messaged the young man in IT I have a crush on about what was on his hoodie today and we were talking on the messenger system our company uses. His status showed he was away at one point and I know he leaves before I do, so I didn't think anything of it. Until he came and stood at my desk to talk to me for a little while. I don't usually make eye contact when I talk to people, but I can't look away when we talk. He is easy to talk to and I enjoy our interactions. I don't know why this was important to talk about. Maybe because I don't often feel noticed. I tend to shrink back, especially around people I find interesting. There's a whole self aware discussion behind that, but that's probably not something I'll talk about here. It was just a really nice ending to a work day and I am grateful for spontaneity sometimes.
My brother and his family moved to Minnesota and I flew to visit them before my book launched. We had a miscommunication about the dates though, and for some reason, my brother just didn't make the connection that I'd arrived, so I started walking to my grandmother's old house. Which was a terrible idea because it was no longer in the family and I had no idea how to get there. I also don't remember how I got to the neighborhood I ended up in, but it was sort of familiar in the way every place is but it's not quite right. I couldn't get a hold of my brother, and my phone wasn't cooperating because even in my dreams, I have shit phone service. So, it becomes nighttime, and I'm still wandering around the streets of Minneapolis, and I decide to download a ride share app so I can get to my grandmother's house faster. Right as I do that, I feel someone watching me. I get freaked out, so I start running toward public areas. The feeling got worse, and I heard some people getting out of their car at this really nice modern looking house. Very square, very glassy. I went up to them and asked if they had a phone I could use since mine was broken, and they invited me inside because I guess I looked distraught. Once I was inside, instead of letting me use a phone, the women start asking me questions, like was I okay, did I get lost, etc. I answered as I could, but it started to feel off. Every time I asked about a phone, they'd steer the conversation elsewhere. To make a long story short, I'd ended up in the house of a cult leader and some of his followers and they'd decided to keep me because I got the dynamic they wanted. I didn't ever get to tell my brother where I was and I couldn't contact my workplace, so to the people in my life, I just vanished. And every time I tried to leave, the people in the house would direct me back to the main living room and tell me stories of their time in the group. There's so much more detail I've left out because this would be hella long if I included it. If you read this far, thanks for taking a peek.
In the space of an hour and fifteen minutes. That's how long this dream lasted. I was getting ready with my sister-in-law for one of her friend's wedding and we started out in this trek through wintery trails and my brother got sprayed by a skunk. The venue was a square warehouse thing and inside there was nothing but electrical outlets and concrete floor. We started getting changed which took most of the day and the wedding was set to happen at dusk. Then this burst of light came through the screen at the top of the walls and landed on the bride to be, and she laughed saying she didn't know a spotlight was part of the package. Then her skin blistered and started falling off. She went down screaming. Everyone panicked. When the light came through again, everyone hugged the walls and ran out of the way. It didn't matter, the light found almost everyone. After hours of this, the light disappeared and it was just me, my sister in law, my niece, and a few others. I heard gunfire and put my sister in law and my niece into a spot in the wall that would keep them hidden for a while longer. When the doors to the warehouse opened, my last thought was "not them. Please don't take them." And I woke up. Just wanted to put this down somewhere, that's all.
all I want to do is sleep and forget about everything that's happened but because of this stupid god damn holiday everyone's blowing shit up.
A poem, if you will. Cut my nerve endings and set me on fire, I want to see how long it takes to burn. I want to watch myself melt from the outside in and see what I'm truly made of. Bones and blood, that much is real, but the pain of reality, the misunderstanding of why-- I wish I could take it all from them, take the ache of never getting what they want, of always feeling like they're less. Family drama is the meme, but laughter hasn't killed the trauma. ---- Bit crunchy in construction, but we'll leave it there and let it be.
In my half asleep mess last night I started a blog post here. I wish I could say I don't do things I shouldn't when I'm half asleep, but it's like being drunk. I once changed my keyboard background on my phone and had no idea how I'd done so. I'll write nonsense in my journal (best line recently "what the frickery fruckery fuck... Who am I?"). I message people I no longer actually wish to speak with. I write poetry about men I thought I loved once (it's all usually absolute hot lettuce garbage) with lines like, "do you even miss the way my name popped up in a notification, the way it sent a bolt of life through you, a spot of joy in an otherwise monochrome life?" It seems like I go full stupid when I'm half asleep.
Every now and then something happens and I find myself rushing to talk to Henry about it and I just crumble. Life has gone on, of course, but sometimes I wish it could let me step aside for a moment, just to let my grief catch up so I can let it crush me. And then I can grab the next tram car to the future. And yet, I wonder if I truly want to let it go. Because I've been running from goodbye for three years now and it's getting harder to stay ahead. I don't want to say goodbye because then it's done. I want to be faster than the weight of loss, avoid the broken bits I know I'll leave scattered. Denial doesn't last forever, but if I accept this, if I let it creep into the place he's hidden away, I don't know.
1. I get to see my brother and his family tomorrow. Goose is telling people she loves them now and it's developed further from her "I la oo" to "I la yew." She puts a little twang on it. 2. My mother's birthday was yesterday, and for the first time in years, I didn't see her on her actual birthday. We're celebrating tomorrow, but there's a weird sense of guilt over not going to her house on the actual day. 3. I've been at the bank for almost a year now (working, not just standing in a bank like a weirdo), and it's still one of my better choices, but my best friend is being moved to a different area because our management didn't actually make a plan for if someone tested positive for covid, and as it happens, someone did. Not in my area, but still. Bit unnerving they didn't, but did anyone really expect this to go on this long? 4. I want to go camping for my birthday, but I'm officiating my friends' wedding on Halloween, and so I can't be a smelly woman of the woods like I want to be. It'll be fine because I love them very much, but I want to spend as much time in the trees as possible to recharge my mental battery. Having an end of October birthday is perfect for when the leaves are turning and the rain is steady. 5. I met Noah Gundersen about a year ago and it's still one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I have his signed tour poster up on my Wall of Happiness in my office along with Zac Hanson's autograph and a photo Goose took of her foot. 6. I dislike how much I've come to want the validation of "likes" on the internet. Social media, here, what does it matter if someone "likes" me? It stems from a lack of confidence and self-understanding, but it still feels like I'm not invisible when people hit that like. I don't enjoy being dependent on it in even a small way. In the end, knowing I helped people feel better in whatever way I could should be the reward. Goodnight. 11:11 I wished for you.
Pardon me while I get deep about a natural phenomenon and apply it to my life. And a bit cliche, too, I suppose. The sunset tonight was particularly striking because we had some hefty rain earlier in the day and some of the leftover clouds were hanging out. I don't particularly enjoy the politics of my state, and I think a lot of the good ol' boy farmers are a bit close minded when it comes to race and equality, but one of my favorite things about living here is the golden hour of sunshine as it's preparing to set and it's heavy on the horizon. And then there's the moment it slips into just the right spot and the sky goes all Monet on you and everything is full of this magical melancholy. Sunsets always hold a bittersweetness for me. Especially at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn when the corn is turning gold. Driving by the fields on my way home from work with the sun doing its thing and seeing the way it's highlighting the green clinging onto the plants is breathtaking. It's in those moments I feel at peace. Usually loud peace because I'm driving with my window down and my hair is whipping out the window (I need a haircut). I don't know that the beauty of a cornfield in summer is enough to make me enjoy living here. But I let it work its magic every now and then. I tell myself I'm bitter and my heart is closed off, but that's just not true. Maybe that's how I see myself most of the time. But I can't be too closed off if I'm waxing pathetic about a sunset, right? There is a beauty and strength to letting go. To releasing that which holds us hostage in our hearts and minds. Easier to say than to do, obviously, but it can be done. I hope this blog finds you well, and I hope if you're not at peace, you find some soon. You deserve it.
1. Cut toxic people out of your life. Do it. Rip the band-aid off and don't look back because you deserve to feel like a person and not a goddamn doormat. 2. Sometimes the ones who break your heart the hardest are the ones meant to be the closest. 3. Ice cream does not make things better. 4. I love the way my niece laughs and I love how much zeal for life she has. I want to see the world the way she does. 5. It's okay. It'll be okay. It'll be okay by the end of this. 6. I want to leave everything behind sometimes. Just vanish. Well, not everything. I'd keep my brother and sister.
I don't have the words to express how important i feel when my niece shows she loves me in her own little ways. Whether it's a chokehold because her arms are tiny, or she just flops over onto you and pats you aggressively, she does her best. Last night her bedtime routine included the end of The Princess and the Frog, and I picked her up for the end credits and did a gentle swaying dance with her. We spun a few times, and because she was so sleepy, her little head tipped back as she giggled. She did her flop on my shoulder and also smacked her face on mine (she doesn't quite have kisses down yet, haha), and when I told her I loved her, she hummed and choked me. Her favorite song is You are My Sunshine, so before we put her down to sleep, I stood in her doorway and sang to her. On the last line, she mimicked the sounds so she could sing with me. I have a hard time accepting people love me. But when Goose says hi to me three times in a row with the biggest smile, or when she tries to sneak up on me while giggling the whole time, I think it's a bit easier. She doesn't see me the way I see myself, which is obvious, but it's a reminder to me to be nicer than I usually am. Because Goose loves me.
I write you poetry before I sleep, words you'll never see. It's not love poetry. It's definitely my heart on the page, though, we writers are so cliche, but it's not the part one might expect in a poem. The part of my heart I leave on the page for you is the one that doesn't want to be broken and yet asks for more when slapped down by oppressive expectation twisted onto my head like some macabre crown of rose thorns jeweled with the eyes of beetles that never actually saw the world they destroyed. I want you to see it, laid bare, out for nothing more than so you know it isn't you, and it was never you causing it to go black. I was bound to be bitter about anything other than what friends do at night when the moon is full and the wolves in our spines want to see the stars so we run, run, run into the endless blight of night where we are free to be whatever we want. Terrifying silhouettes against the sunrise when our reality returns and we are forced to see the present moment all those yoga teachers talk about while soccer moms queef in their size too small yoga pants because they're desperate to be something to their husbands again. I want to claw my way to the top of a mountain and howl at the sky till my throat shreds from the sheer effort of letting all of you go. I want to tear out my tongue so it can't betray me ever again by telling you I would love you even if I shouldn't. It doesn't matter. It never did. It never will. Edit: I barely remember writing this. It's weird. I'm sorry for posting weird shit in blog posts. It's not meant to be about anything or anyone really. I tend to write these to a generic person so it's more like I'm writing them a letter or something. I don't know. I'm going to try not to post blogs for a bit.
It takes a lot of effort sometimes to remember the good moments when you've lost someone really close. Sometimes the grief is more than a wave. It's a vacuum and you can't feel anything but the pressure of that loss, the pressure of the absence of the person you loved. They can't make jokes about how innocent you were. They can't send you twenty-five YouTube videos of their favorite metal songs for you to wake up to. They can't stay up until all hours of the night just because they love the sound of your voice. You romanticize these moments. Look back on them with a fondness you never felt while they were here. Because they were here. You didn't need to remember them fondly yet. You could keep talking even though your throat was sore and the birds were chirping and oh shit, man, I gotta work in four hours, I'll talk to you later. You gave so much of your love without knowing you had and now there's nowhere to put it. So it bubbles over and leaves you with a displaced mess of smiles for boys with an Irish lilt to their tone, for those friends of yours now who ask if you want to talk about historical things, or go into why you're slacking on your writing. You no longer hear that beautiful voice, but you remember the way it filled your heart with a hello, hey, I missed you. It'll be all right, you tell yourself. And it is. It's absolutely okay. But sometimes it's also okay to miss them and accept you're still sad about it.