Leave me on the corner

Its probably not a good habit. I guess its something born of my own survival instincts or coping mechanism. I le go. I give up. I'd rather not have that feeling of the things i love; people, relationships, friendships; taken from me. Or, perhaps more damning and honest, I'd rather not acknowledge the fact that i may be even partially responsible for losing them. So i hold on, but loosely. And when they're finally gone I'm not the one that lost them. They just left.

Save the condemnations. Coward. Fool. Selfish ass. There's not a single one I haven't called myself.

So what's the point of self-analysis if you don't do anything about it, right? I'll have to get back to you with that. It might take me a couple years, though. Years that i'd much rather spend with you. Years that you've convinced me you don't have. I've never had to 'fight' to hold on to something. Someone. I'm not used to it. I don't know how. I've never set out to change myself either. That, I think, will take even more time. And that's part of our problem.

No. My problem shouldn't be your problem. My problem. Mine.

(Written some time around the beginning of 2009. Entry not dated.)

An Argument that Never Happened

"Maybe we shouldn't do this."

You mean maybe you don't want to do this.  Based on nothing more than your own doubts, neuroses, and personal hangups.  Things that you search for so keenly in me because then you don't have to feel so guilty about having them.

"We're not going anywhere."

We've already come so far!  But maybe you're right.  I'm not willing to get hitched and get you knocked up so you can fulfill your dream of living without any clear means of supporting ourselves.  Sorry I wasted your time.

"I thought you would be the one to turn it all around."

And I thought we were meant to accept one another, faults an all.  I wasn't aware you needed fixing.

"I think I give up."  "I'm too tired."

Me too.  I don't know what else to do if "I love you" doesn't work.  If showing it doesn't work.  If I haven't convinced you by now, I don't know if I ever will.

[A dark day in January, 2009]
[Which is truly worse: The things we say to the ones we love or the things we only say to ourselves?]

Against the Light

In New York they walk against the light.
There'll be no delay of our daily pursuits
No insincere righteousness to fix us
to someone else's worn, bitter road.

Why should we walk when our goal is flight?
Why should we stop?
For a little thing like danger?
A little thing like fear?
A litle thing like failure?

For a little thing like the loss of life?
Which, until we stand to lose it
we have no idea of its true value.
And what would a life spent be worth
having never walked against the light?

[5:40 PM, watching the sun set from 5th floor window at Filene's Basement across from Columbus Circle. Also inspired by waiting at interections, holding Merri's hand, and wondering....]

Book Lists

[January, 2009 - Giving myself plenty of time to buy gifts. All of these were chosen using What Should I Read Next]

For Erica

"Staying Dead" - Laura Anne Gillman
"Fire Me Up: An A isling Grey, Guardian Novel" - Katie Macalister (Book 2)
"You Slay Me" (Book 1)
"Light My Fire" (Book 3)

For Merri

"Asleep" - Banana Yoshimoto
"The Nature of Water and Air" - Regina McBride
"Homeland and other Stories" Barbara Kingsolver
"Pope Joan" - Donna Woolfolk Cross
"The Woman Warrior" - Maxine Kingston

For Mom

"Love Medicine" - Lousie Erdrich
"Homeland and other Stories."
"The Woman Warrior"
"The Women of Brewster Place" - Gloria Naylor
"Ceremony" - Lelsie Marmon Silko
"Saint Maybe" - Anne Tyler

Cunt-Junk-thief-eye-tease

So now I'm sitting in the Lobby at St. Luke's wondering what hot sin I could have committed to earn this latest helpiong of Pink Eye.  of all the songs we used to sing during primary school devotions, "Be Careful little eye s what you see." was the one I took the least seriously.  Its actually one of my favorites to ignore, right up there with "be careful little hands where you go."  But after Janelle Usher unceremoniously swatted my hand off her thigh in the middle of Infant II language arts class, I was much more careful with  my hands, and a whole lot freer with my eyes.

Before you ask, my little hands did not wander into my ass, and then into my little eyes.

...at least not consciously.

[January, 2009.  Waiting in the Lobby of St. Luke's Medical Clinic]