Ol’ Blue Hair (8/365)

So here’s something to report from a few days back.  More to come, more will come.  I am doing this.  I haven’t wanted to break so many spells.  I haven’t wanted to burst so many bubbles.  I haven’t wanted to torpedo my successes with description, with the weight of being reminded how much the beginning of the year becomes this depressing deja vu of failure.   I don’t mean to say I’ve fallen off the wagon – I haven’t. I’ve been damn good.

Case in point, I had to order catering for a work event.  We had so much leftover bagels and sugar-glittering poppy seed muffins and coffee cake and vats of salsa and meat and taco shells – enough, it felt, to host the whole thing all over again – I had to haul it all upstairs to the open office space for the whole corporate universe to go forth and have at.  I have no idea why they brought so much.  I was stuck in an elevator with a cart loaded down with all of it and it had no power, no pull, no secret punch.  I could have snuck some and nobody would know.  I just did it.  And I have been just doing it all the way along.  That’s what I want this year to be about.  Just holding steady on the things I know I need to do.

And maybe, maybe moving more quickly to exit the things, stop the patterns and habits as they creep up that do me no good.

Are you doing me anything now aside teaching a patience I am already so familiar with.  I feel so cold, so harsh, so unfair tonight about it.  To have the larger perspective and choose to opt out of it in favor of a petty and small point of view.  A selfish take after weeks and months of docile, impartial availability.  Amiable hands reaching out of the darkness and lately, lately, largely batted away.

I feel some how that everything is on hold until I figure out what you want and I think you know that and I know that and the both of us have taken advantage of the fact that neither of us is willing or able to move.

You said the other night while in a sudden sleep-deprived delirium that I felt like I had a force field around me.  And sure, maybe at some points that’s been true.  And also, you’re the one who calls yourself single.  I don’t say anything about it – again, because it’s easier not to have this conversation.

I am fine with all of this existing as it is.  With it bearing us up until we no longer have a we, in any form, friendship or otherwise.  That may happen – not that I want it to, but that’s life, or it’s been my experience of life and the people around me.  There are so few that stay.  And I have tried my very hardest to not be the one to make a break for it.  To sit in the radius of human affection until I believed somehow I belonged there.  To just not let the black horse run from the cherry tree as KT Tunstall might have advised.

But I asked, gingerly, for a state of the union and felt your panic and you disappeared.  So what am I to do?  You said you were single.  So what am I to do?


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