Charybdis Stirred


We are an amazing breed of people.

Our lives are peculiar and odd and we manage them somehow.  We manage these bizarre happenstances of interactions and intersections and asking and giving.  We turn up sometimes and we say yes sometimes.

I don’t know what I am getting at, really.  It is quiet now that I’ve turned off the Armistead Maupin and Amanda Palmer interview I was listening to when I paused the Voice on Hulu during a commercial and was thinking about asking and giving.  It’s just quiet.  I have a can of frosting open next to me with a spoon in it.  It is Caramel Supreme Frosting and I have had a spoonful and feel as though I might die from a treacly, saccharine overdose.  It only tastes like vanilla frosting with some distant note of butterscotch – one of my least favorite flavors of all time.  All I really want is water.  I just need a bath.

I need a resurgence of wit.  I feel sloped and small, but with the sort of Adelaide from Guys and Dolls colored blonde hair that makes me feel as though I’m a bit more alive than I might otherwise be.   Tomorrow is therapy.  I am supposed to have imagined my life with a relationship in it.  I have had two months to do this and now on the last night available, I am trying.  I am not coming up with much.  I feel thick, brick walls of shame and regret and impossibility and I am trying to just walk around them and say, let’s just say those weren’t there.  Let’s just say I could have a perfect copy of you that was free and clear of location problems, of having dated anyone else, of anything that could possibly give me pause.  Let’s just saying I knew you were totally up for it and wanted it and it was…there.  It was.

Life with you would be warm on colder nights.  Life would be…you would have stories that I have never heard before.  I would have stories that you have never dreamed up.  You would want to hear them.  Not all at once.  Not a cauldron full.  But a stream, running past that we can dip our feet in.  A fire burning behind the grate that we can warm ourselves by, roast our marshmallows over.   We could go there and find the benefit without having to steal the flame, carve the river.   Your hand would find mine.  Settle, settle.  Don’t start leaving that body quite yet.  I need it, there’s a laugh I left in its throat that I need returned.  There’s a kiss caught in its lips, an embrace lodged in its arms, a love that runs along its spine like a silk ribbon and I can hardly be made to do without any of them.  There would be a reason to stay on the ground.

It would be uneasy for a while, but then, then it would feel like something…warm.  Safe, a harbor, a life that has a home.

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