I dunno if many remember me here.
Some do, I think..who knows?
Hi. If yadoo.
I didn't flounce exactly...I just....disappeared. Into my messy life for a while. And I didn't respond to emails, and I am a bad, bad person. Or maybe I just hate email. Oh, I know I hate email, who am I kidding?
I don't know how to reintroduce meself, and I am not sure if I am back, given my constant fear of having nothing to say.. so I am just going to blither on and see how it feels. I would rather bring you cookies and tea and sit on your porch and tell you that I am lonely, but not with words. I just want to sit near you and enjoy your proximity and ask for nothing and concentrate on things outside myself.
I want to listen to your problems to feel connected.
I want to see how you are doing this life thing. And if its anything like mine. Am I fucking up? Or is everyone without a paddle and faking it like me? Even my thoughts are trite. Amazing.
I had this lovely experience recently.
Wait...let me back up.
I had this total and complete breakdown recently.
Yeah. Thats more truthful.
Things piled up. Crisis in relationship that is being worked out. Big sister had a brain tumor removed...and it found it's way back. Now we are deciding what to do next, as if its ANYONE else's problem but Audrey's and all our thinking about it and talking about it matters.... And how marvelous is that...Audrey, of the fine mind and grey eyes and wonderful marriage and kind heart is dying but Pat Robertson lives on. Awesome.
I am unconnected to people here in NY (have I been homesick for LA?..YOU BETCHA!) , so my connections tend to come from media. And media is bad. Media exaggerates and panders and bloviates and snarls and is purient beyond belief. So.
So. I have that and sadness and stress at home and money money money problems and I grew ever numb. Despair has always been a pal to me, a familiar groove in my brain that the wheels of my thoughts fall into with gloomy relish. It's easy and comfortable and I never wanted to be here anyway..but here I am cleaning the toilet and making pretty things and smiling as much as possible and..
And then I lost it. And I ended up in Austin in my momma's guest bedroom and we sat together and we drank tea and wine and watched MadMen and Dexter and read books and talked about everyone and didn't talk at all and after a month I stopped shaking.
I am ashamed of my weakness. I could say that I have been juggling for a long time, and that I should get pat-on-the-head credit for that, and-and and-really-really I am a good person for reals...but in truth I just pooped out. Too many 20 hour days. Too much stress, too little sex, too little contact...and death always ready to say howdy, but not to me.
Not to me. Which would be better, I think far too often for other peoples comfort, so I keep that bit to myself... I never wanted to be here. I never ASKED to be here, and I am still kinda mad that I didn't get a choice about it (that I can remember anyway..) Audrey can stay if she wants..I'll go. It's cool. She is doing the life thing better than me.
That was me. That is me. Self indulgent and scattered and weak and wanting praise for my hard work and fearing praise because when they like you they tear you down. Another thing media taught me.
Then Spring came early. Daffodils and lilacs, peonies and now the fireflies. And it didn't make it all better but it made me smile.David bought me two gifts for the birthday (early..it's Friday..gee...methinks he's been a little scared). The first is a beautiful, beautiful mint green and chocolate bike. I had not been on a bike in 20 years. I love her. I LOVE her and I ride her every day since getting her. Her name is Sarah. I have NO idea why.
Yay. I wear ponytails and cat eye sunglasses and bought a wicker basket for her and we look so cute racing down the street, my big thighs working harder than they have in a while. I have not felt cute in so long.
The other gift was all of the "Post Secret" books I didn't own. Which is a lot, as I only had the one, and had forgotten about it.
"One for the body, one for the heart" he said.
And I read all these books and I see such...poetry.
Weakness and cravenness and fear and kindness and sadness and loss and I am carefully and gently and movingly reminded that everyone everyone everyone is thinking all these sad, delicious, dangerous, scary, thoughtful, kind, generous thoughts and I am awakened.
My heart just opens up and I see pink again and everywhere and I know it won't last but right now I have this bike and these books and I am using my body and softening my heart and I love David again. I have always loved David. I will always love David. I hope the circumstances of the world..our world..doesn't fuck that up.
And its funny...writing all that down sounds unbelievably shallow, but the feeling is profound and I wish I were a writer so I could show you how tenderly I love you.
Yes, you. And you too.
Play nice, ok? It's mean out there.