Thursday, July 19, 2012

just like every night has its dawn...

“Did she just quote Poison?” you're probably asking yourself. Let me assure you, you're not seeing things. I really, truly did. It's terrible, I know, but I kind of like this line when it comes to my life right now.

Wait a minute. I am not ready to go into detail and don't know if I'd do so here (plus, The Growling Rabbit's speakers are now playing Michael Jackson's “Black or White,” which sort of killed my bare-my-soul mood, anyway), but I have felt, off and on, like I am peeking from behind a cloud or out from some shadows. I'm gaining some clarity just spending time with myself and it's making the air around me feel lighter, smell sweeter; the grass is greener, the light through the trees is whiter. Some things have been actually good. I've been down to the beach and felt the sand between my toes. I've sat at a cafe window and watched the day turn to dusk, the light becoming blue, and I've written my thoughts down until my hand has cramped and the pages were sopping-wet with tears, ink smudged. I've inspired, enlightened and been kind to people; I've also infuriated, embarrassed and hurt people. I've broken my own heart again and again because it was the right thing to do. I've lost sleep, baked cookies and casseroles into the night, drank alone, smoked more cigarettes than I have in years. I've admired what seemed to be happy couples - on the train, on the street, among my friends. I've watched a couple of strangers, boy and girl, sharing a soda pop with the girl standing on her tippy-toes to sip from the several-inches-taller boy's straw. Two men on the train lean on each other; two women look at each other with adoration. My civilly-united friends share, after 9 years, a dynamic that's hard not to envy, finishing each other's sentences and making light-hearted fun of each other. My still-newly-in-love friends, after a year, have something still fresh enough to make me nostalgic. They all make me believe that love and happiness exist, at least for a part of the population, and that makes me ecstatic.

In the time between posts, life's thrown me curve balls that I am still trying to catch. Or dodge. I've made a point of calling, texting and emailing people back – and other times, have completely forgotten to (often regretfully, but sometimes, not-so-much). I've become accustomed to my new neighborhood, strolled through our Sunday farmer's market, had organic eggs and organic milk, made a coffee shop a second home; I've watched the sun set, reconnected with old friends, made some new friends and made mistakes. So, so many mistakes.


I graduated with a Bachelors degree (and I received my diploma in the mail this week to prove it!). I re-joined a writing group. I'm enjoying my favorite trashy TV shows and watching more movies again (I even have a new celebrity crush!). I'm leisurely looking into grad programs (some in other parts of the country, as I have been wondering more and more if I need a change of surroundings) and, even more leisurely, trying to study for the GRE. I'm back in therapy and on meds; I'm going out. I'm interacting, discovering new interests, uncovering new obsessions (the good kind). I'm far from perfect. I don't always have the energy to work on me or my life; I can be stubborn, bitter, pouty, sad and hopeless-teetering-on-pessimistic. I'm happy to clarify and bring to light my flaws, but hell hath no fury like Louise if someone else calls attention to them. I have come to the realization that most, if not all, of my friendships – though with terrific, smart, fun and compassionate people – are superficial. If a crisis arose, I am not sure who I would call on without extreme embarrassment or awkwardness (not very long ago, this wasn't so entirely the case; that's another side effect of recent poor choices that I will have to live with). I have been pretty unknowable and I am unsure of how to correct something so long in the making. I don't believe that people really change much as years pass; I think that we just learn to live with who we are. I'm learning. This is me, hoping that I am at least getting some of this right.

Next Up: more Dori Stories from the vault; perhaps more flash fiction...

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