love & sex

this sucks and it’s awesome at the same time

By November 7, 2012 No Comments

I had completely forgotten how utterly fucking terrible it is to lose sight of your best friend. To lose the gift of their voice and eyes and kisses and snuggles. Their warm lips and soft belly. Their selfless devotion to your contentment, holding you as family. Warm hugs in the hot shower, head to chest, sheets of water melting down.

I am getting through each day minute by minute. The days seem brutally long, but then end in a way that feels unnaturally fast. Time is both sped up and slowed down. I’m not part of the world around me. I’m drifting in a plane between people, under their radar, over their eyes.

I’m looking at objects, but not seeing them. I’m nodding to people and a little robot is talking for me. My heart is stretching between freedom and happiness, to devastation and disorientation minute by minute.

Some hours are good. Some are very bad.

I’d put all my money on starvation, yet I’m still alive. For me, there has never been more proof that heart, body and mind are one and the same. When the heart shatters, leaving the mind unattended, the body compensates. A beautiful flow of energy, if you allow it.

Don’t resist. Accept the reality around you. Breathe. Pray for moments of peace. Take an Atavan. Go to sleep.

Too early. Next day. Every day feels like an extension of that last night. I forget how this works. How long does it take? Please don’t say forever. Little voices sometimes say, “This one’s forever.”

Then I think, “This is what they said last time. Don’t listen. Just keep doing. Keep putting gas in your car and changing your tampon and listening to talk radio.” (the only safe music right now)

I promise myself that the cord responsible for strangling my ability to fall back into the world will fall away in time.

“It’ll be faster this time. I promise.”

Everything seems so far away now. That first kiss in the cab when you pulled me onto your lap. Making quiet, real love in the yellow guest room in San Francisco.

I miss your voice. I miss your baby fine hair. I miss your catch-me-if-you-can eyes. You didn’t let me catch you often.

But maybe you knew too. Maybe we were doing the same thing and fell into the same ideas about damn near perfect and how it might be the real secret to perfect.

We’re both free now. Free to really dig in and fix the things that ultimately deflated our bubble. I needed you just as much as you needed me.

1/1/11
The luckiest day for two people who had no idea how much they needed one anothers love.

Slow burning, immediately intense, hard and fast and dripping and safe. Everything I’d never felt. You clung to me tightly. I tried to run. You let me. I turned around and came back.

This sucks so bad, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. This was exactly what was supposed to happen to us. It had to be this way. Trusting in love and feeling its warmth and comfort, so that when we finally began to recognize our purpose we would be able to accept it as a gift, rather than loss.

I owe you my life for standing in front of me as a mirror to show me the deepest barricades to finding my own inner peace. You are now mixed in with my DNA, a strength built into the foundation of my heart.

This sucks and it’s awesome at the same time.
I’m sorry I was such an asshole.
I’m sorry you couldn’t feel me.
I wish it was different.