It’s about 2 in the morning and I simply cannot sleep.
I climbed out of bed and crept downstairs with Polo clutched tightly in one arm and this here laptop
gripped by the other.
Just going to try to sort some things out, in my mind –
just going to try to find some reason for this troubled spirit –
to make some sense of this.
I mean, today was a lovely day..
I enjoyed church.
Chris and I cooked lunch together afterwards, at home.
Then, we went to the park and just layed out on the blanket for what seemed like hours..
he slept and I kept my eyes open, peering up into the sky, down at the grass-carpet..
I let my eyes graze along golden, sun-gilded leaves.. I continued observing as they centered
themselves upon a flock of geese across the lake, thrashing about wildly, fighting amongst themselves
and, I’m sure, enjoying every second of it.
Each breath you take – goes in, comes out
Each second you wait
Each moment, you doubt
Every step that you take – ahead, behind
Each mile you travel
Each voyage in your mind
All the pain that you’re feeling – inside, outside
All the pain is so real and
It’s hard, to find
Anything that makes sense
And anything that’s real
Anything you have that’s beautiful
That you didn’t have to steal
It’s two in the morning
And you’re thinking to yourself
If this is the place called heaven
Why do I feel like hell?
The discontent, the cut that bleeds
The depression that lingers, the fear the feeds
The doubt that haunts you,
the reality that escapes
The imagination that controls you
The truth that you hate
The truth that you always
wanted to be free
And the truth that you never
Do anything but dream
And the truth that you never
Say a word you believe
And the truth that you’ll always
live like this
I love being married; I love that, Chris treats me with such.. respect, love, and devotion; every day, I’m told that I’m his best friend!.. every day, we spend EVERY second together.. we fall more in love, he seems to grow sweeter and sweeter and becomes even more beautiful with every glance I give in his direction.
So why do I feel so, alone?
Why am I so.. emotional and,
This, is the puzzle piece that was supposed to make everything LOOK right –
the solution to put an end to all of this, uncertainty, I’ve been experiencing..
the “one thing” that would perfectly destroy a bleak reality and rescue me from pits of morbidity! and —
I find that, at the core,
I’m still the same.
And of course, you say,
“Of course it’s that way –
marrying someone does not change
I don’t know.
Marrying Chris, has made me infinitely happy. I feel understood, accepted, appreciated, ..
I have the companionship I’ve always longed for – the devotion I’ve dreamt of and craved!..
strong affections returned, deep feelings I possessed he shares, when I never imagined
it could be that way.. never thought or believed he could care, like I did.
And yet, I find myself
SO stuck in the past.
just, all of these memories — flooding me.
Summers with Grammy and Grampy; walking to Miami Subs, where only Bobby was allowed to have mozzarella sticks, although we both wanted them, because they were too ‘expensive..’, taking the bus to the dollar theatre, playing in the pool, picking mulberries in Aunt Frances’ backyard (which paralleled Grammy’s), coloring easter eggs and reading Dr. Seuss in the big, brown chair.
Mom and Dad; how they’d fight when I was little, mom would get home late at night from working at Publix and would have brought me home a burrito from Taco Bell that, a lot of the time, wouldn’t get eaten til the next day (if eaten at all – sometimes she’d forget to ask them to ‘hold the onions’), the nights when Bobby and I would sit, anticipating, in our livingroom (who knows where we were; SC, FL) as mom put together “surprise plates” in the kitchen for us (surprise plates: she would make a plate of random, favorite, quick/easy/finger-foods of ours and it was just a great delight), dad and I’s severely terrifying roadtrips where I almost died twice, the wedding day when they were there and I saw both of my parents cry,
and then I had to say “goodbye” outside of an Italian restaurant and
walk away like nothing weird was happening,
nothing was “changing,”
“there are no tears in my eyes..”
School days; feeling privileged as I’m dubbed the “kid counter” on the bus, following my name on the “star student” chart in Mrs. Duncan’s 2nd grade class, the excitement of getting up early, dressing myself and gearing up for school every morning, the food fights, the drama, the breakups, being a newscaster, PE-only football player, skirt-wearing-vegan-weird-outcast-girl who is
friends with everyone
wants to help everyone
and never allows herself to need, anyone.
The times of conviction, the period of being “on fire..”
the excitement and joy of every day – waking up to study, pray, take care of my body, mind, family and friends.. work diligently and live purposefully..
the beautiful anticipation on the Sabbath mornings when I was privileged to take part in service — to sing, to sermonize, to teach. The honor that such a responsibility bestowed upon me.
Cutting, throwing up, starving myself, blocking everything out with music in my ears, black on my body, and closed eyes. Trying to pull others up while I was drowning in my own crazy, demented, horrified
Was there ever a good reason?
Eventually, I just got tattoos.
THAT was also supposed to solve everything.
The Peters. (will I ever be able to forget that name?)
Summers, winters, phone conversations that took place everyday and lasted way too long.
Wasted time, energy, affection, means?
Was it purposeful, beautiful — is it now — can it ever be, is it SUPPOSED to be?
If you find out it was wrong,
does the past profit nothing?
And if you sing about it in a song,
Can it make sense of insanity?
“You’ve gotta spend some time,
You’ve gotta spend some time –
And I know that you’ll find, love–
I will possess
your heart.” -Death Cab For Cutie (it’s a band..)
I guess I’ll try and get some sleep now; Chris and I volunteered to help out with a church social tomorrow.
Plaster a smile on my face,
and find the button on my body,
in my mind,
somewhere in my spirit,
Forget tonight – the way you pried and probed
Forget your rights – to wail, to bemoan
that everything isn’t like it used to be
neither, indeed, can it..
Wow; talk about REVELATION.
This isn’t a temporary alternate-reality..
this is the new reality.
This, is life –
“being here now..”
this, is the result of change.
And I’m supposed to just play along,