You sat with your hands dangling over the stuffed leather booth
I sat across from you with a **** eating grin
We had a huge sundae in front of us loaded with extra cherries on top, just the way we like it.
Now you can find us sneaking extra cherries behind the bar to add to our whiskey sodas.
Drinking all of the whiskey down so quickly the cherries end up being futile.
Long handled spoons in hand we dip into the lactose filled shell and scoop large mouthfuls like shovels. We talk at the same time as we chew.
We are older now, but we still don't care about manners or laughing too loud or how we really want to get whiskeys instead of this belly ache of sweets.
We inhale our singular bowl and aren't shy about who gets the last bite.
We are back in your sisters house and I'm sitting in the same part of the kitchen that I sat the night that I drank too much wine and threw up in her front yard.
Not much has changed except that her children are older.
Chloe isn't bouncing her creepy Dolly head from couch cushion to couch cushion in the living room.
And your dad isn't there with Nancy commenting about how old I am now.
And I'm not secretly wanting to throw punches at Nancy, but instead throwing back glasses of wine.
We still feel so connected in a way that I have never been able to put words to. I've tried in the thousands of cards and letters and sentimental moments. That is what is so difficult about feelings towards someone you love deeply. Words are so finite.
I decide I want to try with words anyways. I want to share with you how much you've meant to me all of these years.
Before setting my alarm and falling asleep to the sound of rain
I had been having an existential moment. Well, lots of them, since I found out I would become a mother.
Not only was I growing someone in my womb but I was deconstructing and rebuilding the one I had become.
Awake I couldn't stop thinking about all of the moments we had been through and how we survived them all. We still love each other through it all.
Awake I became aware that you were as close as I could get to having another sibling.
Not in a cliche "I love you like my sister type," but in an innocent wild green way.
We still had it.
That part of us that did not let the world rob us from our wild selves, our hunt for nature, our questions that we weren't afraid to explore together even if it made everyone else uncomfortable. Our sensitivity...heightened sensitivity to everything around us.
Back to my dream...
Somehow we weren't at your sister's house anymore. Now we were on the dock of your mom's house and I told you how much I had been going through.
How much I felt myself changing and that I had to let you know how much you meant to me.
How close in my heart you remained and will always remain.
I told you that you were the most influential person during my teenage years. I met you the year I found out that my father was struggling with addiction and had to go to rehab. I met you when I was the most alone in the world and the most confused. I had never had a friend like you.
I met you and you picked me up from my house in your green Honda when I had been AOL instant messaging my ex boyfriend and he told me I had rats nest as hair. I ran out to the driveway crying, after of course brushing the curls out of my hair. I was really sobbing about the fact that my father was in rehab and I wanted to disappear behind the crook of my closed bedroom door.
I met you when I was swallowed up with insecurity around what right thing was to wear and should I shave my legs once or twice a day.
You introduced me to Goodwill shirts and letting your hair grow as long as you **** well wanted.
We became close friends instantly.
Through our twenties we floundered in a lot of ways. With ****** men and divorces and affairs and despairingly drunken nights and moments we still needed to be chaperoned. Our innocence shifted.
We became aware of the world and how it really was.
Then we decided we wanted to do something about it.
The foundation of our paths have always aligned.
I told you that you offered me freedom and relief and that when you were having a hard time sometimes I couldn't be there in the ways that you needed and when I was having a hard time you couldn't be there in the ways that I needed but none of that mattered now.
None of it ever did.
Because our foundation was still there. Like the marrow in our bones.
I hugged you and told you that you are still that person to me. That you still show up for me in so many different ways, just by who you are as a person...not even what you do.
That here I am going through one of the biggest moments of my life and that it all seems like it is going to be okay, because you are still here. With me.
Your sister. Your mom. Connor and Chloe and Sig. The smell of eucalyptus. Your light beaded dangly earrings. Your square shaped fingers and toes. Your hairy legs. Your voice belting over Aretha. Lake Chelan. The way you make tea steaming up to our noses. How impossible you are to wake up in the morning. Armpit bangs. How we have held each other with words, with arms, with history, but mostly with acceptance and understanding.
I had been told by a client a few years ago that if you hug someone for over 20 seconds that your heart aligned.
What a pathalogical sentiment am I right?
Anyways, in my dream we hugged and our hearts turned a bright yellow and glowed from our chests.
They left our rib cages and
Circled around my belly
She felt the warmth and knew
as she entered the world
She too wouldn't have to be alone.
And then I woke up.
I walk towards closed opening
it is me
and there I am again
Peering up power
myself looks down on me
The same index finger in every direction
wagging back and forth
in front of each same face
me buried in cynical sweat. me climbing up vines of idealist laughter.
me me me me me
There I am.
again and again. and again.
Like a well fed vermin
you stroke your ego
until slick animal
vibrates with pleasure
You lick up my gaze
Bathing in the belief
That it is you
age 5 squeezing eyelids shut at the scary scenes
tears rolling down slitted sides
three years ago in the fall ******* down whiskey
cigarette smoke as tarred conversation filler
the winter I turned into my kitchen floor
a cold span of grainy walked on, chopped down rings of life
A Pathetic Cameo
I always believed
You would not let me fall.
It began in April of last year
My limbs whipped through the air,
Tresses swirling like a dusty road
Blinding any access to holds
Still, I Lurched for
Your crooked smile
Your magician's hands
Your whiskey slurred "I love you's"
Your sweet tormented eyes
How could I still be shocked that none of it was rooted
None of you was planted
With your swinging knife blade you had slit all that could create
My heels digging into air
You threw me a rope of flames
A garland of grey
Wings of a sleepless angel
You reached for me but your arms were a shadow
A glazed eyed ghost
A haunting option of pseudo safety
Collapsed, finally free from gravity
Landing in another's arms.
Was I okay?
I searched among my bones and laughter
behind ribs and under the cracks of my smile
For anything damaged in the crash
There you were.
There you always are.
Within me, never around me.
like a fool in love without you
and still with you
I was not ready for our encounter.
You caught me in the midst of
tending to my own crop
Trying to farm a plant who thrives underwater
Hoping it would die above land,
along with the cobalt of my sorrow.
I tried to continue
to bury tear.
ash aching algae.
kiss goodby coral.
You took my hand and used your sleeve
to wipe my grieving sweat.
You asked me set down my sow
and put my farm to fire
I feared the black rebirth
but you promised me
I would never have to cultivate solo
You reached for my fist
and finger by finger
the freedom of soil and seed emerged
There I stood
As I was always meant to be from birth
a snakeskin of anguish
a forever lover of
You laugh like you have never been lonely
You forget that I know you
That I see
the lump in your throat
You clean up after others
like you have no mess yourself
that is alright my love
I see the cracks in your elbow grease
You are just like your mother
A warrior in the battle of suffering
How could anyone not love that about the both of you?
You disperse tissues and cotton sleeves and squeezes
to anyone who even blinks a tear towards you
Your mother has a handkerchief for occasions like this.
Behind you I focus on the way your curls twist
Chestnut waves and rings
I've focused on them before in times like this
How is the familiar so comforting?
Your father's glasses and upright chest
Your sister's side hugs and repetitive "how are you's?"
Your mother's matching necklace-earrings and observing,
always on watch
Your husband's one Old Navy button up and dispatched humor
The way, these days, I want to hug you and never let go.
I yearn to be a thief
Can I rob your father's pain? Your mother's pain? Your sister's pain?
If I am present long enough will you let me help you?
When you called me and told me you could never imagine losing your best friend
I repeated the cadence in your voice and the words for hours on a long drive home
I reminded myself that I always hope I go first
So I never have to see what the world is like without you.
She is gone
and all of us remain
to make sure that we relationally gain
Even among all of life's pain
Seductive emerald green eyes meet seductive full lips that hide a smile that is only exposed at the most genuine of times. A man who has probably fifteen different types of laughs in response to three different types of scenarios. Sleepy, but not in a boring way—a sentimental kind of “checking in for the night”, Chris has only one dimple and only one type of tolerance for people. He isn’t a schmoozer, which is shocking as a salesman. You know where you stand with him and every type of person finds him so appealing that they secretly hope that they are always on his good side. Values aren’t a word or a list for him, they are a way of living. It’s not a thought or an intention, rather just who he is---a beautiful golden boy. Oh, but not in a sweet, novelty way. He has the perfect amount of edge---where you just want to keep looking, keep watching his every move. To say he is interesting in every sense of the word wouldn’t be enough.
This is a bio meant to be reflective of his cinematic professional role. He is the lead. He isn’t center stage, but you want him to be. So modest that you have to grab him by the hand and pull him right in the middle so everyone can see him where he belongs: the spotlight. He’s the conductor sitting in the drummer’s seat. It takes an encore to get him to perform and when he does it’s a well that will never run dry. It’s never enough.
A jack of all trades? Would I describe him like that? Maybe some days, but for the most part he is king of hearts, He’s passionate, competent, and the best kind of human-organically sincere. You want to buy what he’s selling, you want him to call you friend, and if you’re really lucky like I am, romantic partner.
Success is in your veins my love. You were never meant to be a part of the crowd and that’s what one of the hundreds of reasons why I adore and love you.
You are all I’ve ever wanted.
Three steel hinges,
pronged finger, holding hands with wall and door.
land and ocean and continents
Isn't it funny how grief and longing become a sixth sense?
When my marriage ended
I couldn't stomach a welcome mat.
The door became
a safe functionality to the entrance of my home
(can I call it home? When my heart is only at home with you? And I didn't have you, until the three pronged moment)
Anyways, I get caught up in the details...
Your eye contact was my sustenance
it was the first step off of a 15 hour flight,
My flip book,
where I shove
thumb, pushing pages
Snapping your sweet smile.
Can I create a crane out of these pages?
To hold onto them in some physical form
All that matters is you entered my (home)
When every wall whispered your name for months
Those hinges waved
and the corners of my residence
within my heart
within my breath
within my physical walls
were at last, hushed.
My miss. How I never want to ever miss you so.