eating practically nothing but chocolate and words, a debt

365 day one hundred & two: new tomorrow

From a letter I wrote to Juan, “I wish I could mail myself to you in a great cardboard box, foolishly mark myself a gift and sleep until you found me in your kitchen. Oh look, I would say, I’m real after all. See my problems? I will give them to you like ripened apples for you to chew. They will turn sweet in travel. I thought once that if my life refused to improve, I would just begin walking, not look back, and find my way to where you live. Life did improve, though. It feels alright now, like a place to live, at least until the next thing happens.”

Edward Lorenz, the founder of Chaos Theory, died Wednesday of cancer.

My eyes slip across the street, noting where sand collected in what used to be rain puddles. I think if this moment could be collected, I have friends who I would like to send it to, who might understand the feeling of weight my blood carries in my body. Everything is heavy, even while curled on a couch, resting my head on a pile of silk pillows, my dreams full of choreographed shouting, difficult and lonely. A sheathed short sword in my hand, taken from a shelf, held in my hand, jabbed in the air for emphasis. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way, thick with mythology, mired in darkness, as pregnant with promise that only mystery can be. The tip of the black bamboo case held at his throat, keeping him still, an implied threat. Any minute I could drop it, any second, I could put it down, and wait for his hands on me. A pass, forensic, you are healed, lightning coming down layer by layer, impressed upon the landscape like a gravestone rubbing, rain falling without regret, reminding the grass to be green.

Behind my eyes, I rewind, reposition him, the stairs, the way I might reposition a tea-cup for a photograph. I attempt to find a configuration that has nothing to do with frustration or anger. I rewind, reposition, I suggest lines to the scene as if to an actor. My body lies perfectly still, except for a frown, one tiny crease. Why can’t I be dreaming of cat strange eyes? I am sent to the river. Washed of glory, he walks down the stairs again. I again gesture, upset, incontrovertible. It is a loop, queerly criminal, taken out of time as if it were stolen. My footsteps are silent, but his are not. There is no wall where I want one.

Above all, I require grace. I said it out loud in the shower the next days, the words like soap bubbles, clean, beautiful, a renewed realization of what keeps me clear.

moving in on the first date

Once upon a time when time was shivering apart and memories seemed more real than reality, the girl who fell from the sky and the west coast hacker king came to an agreement.

Today was gloriously stressful, much more than I bargained for. April 1st is my one-year nonniversary with Antony, which struck me in the heart like the world wanted me to understand the word “smite” in a pure, holy way. Every living cell in my body misses him, they take turns reminding me. Today, however, they ganged up and jumped me. All today, as the last of the SecWest cool kids came down from Whistler and connected with the airport and chores, I could rewind a year back and see exactly where I was, minute by minute, 365 days ago. As I write this, we were smiling. He was saving me from darkness, I was inviting him back to my place. It was a Saturday, then, and we had gone to dinner and dancing, as if we had drawn a straight line on a map from meeting to what would be. Any minute now, we’ll have kissed.

I called him tonight after I got home, half an hour after midnight, and left a message. I told him I miss him, that I love him, that of everyone in the world, it’s his blessed voice I would like to hear the most.

Editor’s Note: To wit, my life took a left turn and fell apart and came back together and all those things that lives tend to do, but all in one day instead of stretched over a reasonable amount of time. I’m back from madcap Whistler, I met keen new people, Dragos came over, Nicole took me out, I called home, and now I’m alright. Watch the Brothers Quay video, it’s splendid and makes me glad the world exists.