i couldn't remember my ex girlfriend's mother's name.
i couldn't for the life of me. i had to track down her name on the internet. i'd been wrong about my guess at her name. i felt a satisfaction in the throes of this loss.
i couldn't for the life of me. i had to track down her name on the internet. i'd been wrong about my guess at her name. i felt a satisfaction in the throes of this loss.
setting it up. this life. clean bill of health. for what. hey, don't think like that it's for something. remember--
enough with the memories.
how about now. how do you feel now.
before she left me to work with teenagers full time, my therapist said she learned from me: resilience.
before she left me to work with teenagers full time, my therapist said she learned from me: resilience.
open toed sandals becoming more and more frequent. crossing then uncrossing of the legs. dimming of the fluorescent lights. then darkness. in the darkness where the shadows appear, in comparison, to be lights.
i sunk like a stone.
i sunk like a stone.
i dreamt of my sick father. we ate a big greasy meal together but he was already all wasted away - like he was at the end.
and in my dream i was concerned he ate all of it cuz he was so skinny and weak like he was toward the end.
and in my dream he surprised me cuz he followed me into another room and stood there with me while i tended to my task.
and in my dream i turned to him and i said--
and in my dream i was concerned he ate all of it cuz he was so skinny and weak like he was toward the end.
and in my dream he surprised me cuz he followed me into another room and stood there with me while i tended to my task.
and in my dream i turned to him and i said--
dad we don't know when you're gonna go but when you do, i'm gonna miss you. and then i woke up with him gone missing him.
after i woke up--
after i woke up--
i told the story to trav over breakfast early that morning and just as i did he pointed out a green hummingbird flittering above red flowers.
and i forgot to mention about waking from that dream:
that that morning after i awoke from that dream but before we met for breakfast, i had stared at my bedroom blinds with tears in my eyes and i had asked my dad for another sign.
that that morning after i awoke from that dream but before we met for breakfast, i had stared at my bedroom blinds with tears in my eyes and i had asked my dad for another sign.
and then the hummingbird again. like the one that flew into his house minutes after he'd died.
watching my dad lose himself was an intimate experience. slow. so slow. the way the disease deconstructed his body, pound by pound, appetite by appetite. the way the painkillers commandeered his mind.
i haven't gotten over it. i haven't gotten over it. who knows if life will give me time. i just read about an indonesian man who is 145 years old. maybe by then, i won't need to get over it, cuz i'll just want to die.
but not right now. now i am alive. even if it's just a night with my memories. what a treasure. there it is-- that old famous: resilience.
don't think. don't think.
just remember the way she looked across the train platform. and the things you texted to each other before she got onto hers and you then realized you were standing on the wrong one.
but it wasn't the wrong one you were on at all
