same days forever

Originally written November 2018.

Nothing about it is really novel. I’m grateful. Not in that everyday thanksgiving applause for the soothing appreciables around me. It’s a cryptic thanks that I can barely hold onto because I have to face ugly authenticity to keep it in my grasp.

I’ve justified actions in my life. I’ve leaned into my will, creating unexpected life curves. I felt strong navigating the wrong worlds where my weaknesses were magnified. Foreboding joy, my inevitable curse.

It happened so slowly I didn’t know I was broken. I knew my relationships were twisted. I’d been to therapy and forgiven others. Much harder to forgive me. And more—to know me,—and why? To claim authenticity as my deepest desire, but…

…the duplicity. The juxtaposition of my desires, values and the truth of my decisions, life products.

After I changed everything I got lost for a while. I didn’t trust anyone, especially me. I tried new community endeavors that fulfilled me for a time, and then I stopped. I pulled away.

I took full responsibility and self assessment. I still got mad at blameful stories. I trembled with powerlessness and paranoia. But I faced it. I discovered the roots of issues in me dug into thicker, deeper roots. Ideas bloom. Some need to die or be in someone else’s garden.

I have learned things, but I have mainly learned that I need to learn more. I live for myself now, and I desperately try to focus on my daughter. It’s rare I can remember specifics about those years because it pains me that I lost time slaving my mind away for what didn’t ever add back to my life’s value.

That’s what I mean by cryptic gratitude. I used to be very open and carefree. Now I don’t let many people in. I am careful. I ask questions instead of share my story first. I test the waters and evaluate a person’s motives and value system. I judge on my perceptions when I didn’t before. I used to have a very enthusiastic way of connecting information in ideas, places, and people. That’s become more latent since I don’t go out as much and has been replaced with more analytical skills from reading and watching content.

I guess I’m possibly more well-rounded. Maybe boring. I’m always evaluating. Whoever I am, I’m different now. That’s what I’ve noticed lately.

(edit)“what you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.”

i brought my blue pillow in from the car.
i put my car key back on the key ring with the rest of the keys.
i washed my hair for the first time since before taco dinner with you.
i put the blue-rimmed plate in the cabinet and the gray jacket in the closet.
i’ve decided to sleep in my bed tonight for the first time since two saturdays ago.

a dance routine in the shower
blonde child says i love you
shadow of sweet disposition from behind as fingers paint
hero sails lake to back door
telling secrets on the living room floor
henry from under the bed into the lap
a blown up glove create a smile
adventure upstairs in old buildings
a crappy sandwich, bad pizza, delicious pots and pans made with care
living room better than bar
careful to speak except once mistake
prise revoked for bad behavior
a hand-written note on calendar seen
toothbrush in the holder
perdy girl phadooklet
playground fights not new mom fatherinlaw
dirt bikes couch crashes
sleep on made bed so funny like
movies didn’t see, swamp gravy vacations planned already
almost elton john kiss in car savannah
you can’t stop the hairspray in my ice cream sunday afternoon lunch (sun pouring in three windows, can on my dresser, wrapped up in a blanket and mixed up.dontleave)
the runaway dance
salmon shorts
zombies just to sit on the couch with
clumsy kiss at the door
hot when sleeping
squeeze my hand to death
goodbye for work think of all day
half smile pretty mouth
giggle at work storararies
look with eyes taller sparkle care remember feel like good keep
hide excitement when i see
please don’t let the forget of time steal little feels as these appreciated. hold these long as the mind will keep. please. happy was here for em ee. wont forget. wont. don’t want to won’t. silence change not memory.

[i wrote brian’s brutal analysis of the situation here, but i just don’t think it’s true so i erased it earlier.
i would still like to think the best of you. i appreciate all of the wonderful ways you were treating me
and i hope it was genuine and not all for play like he said.
even though your reaction is mean and unforgiving and silent. like a dang taylor swift song.
i will keep it for myself and mull over it instead of posting it here.
just doesn’t seem right.]