November 22, 2005

Old Fugues


Looking through some old folders I found this thing from I dunno, a year ago. I liked it, so thought I'd put it up.

__________________________


I spent a year in a fugue. Thinking. If you asked me now what I thought about I couldnít tell you. Well, I could, but you wouldnít understand. Understand how I could spend a year on the same 6 pieces of information. Worrying them until they unraveled and became meaningless. Not realizing that misery wasnít the end result, but a means to nothing. Or maybe you know how it goes. How when youíre in it, itís all there is. No light at the end of the tunnel. You know the tunnel is limited, you know that someday youíll find your way out, youíre just not concerned with turning someday into now. Until you realize.

And one day I did. It was a Wednesday, and I was going to see some friends for dinner. Force myself out of the house into human company because someone told me that was supposed to help. I sat on the floor on my knees and put my head down and let some sobs escape. Thereís a harsh sound that comes from your throat when youíre wracked with emotions that donít make sense. Emotions youíve already had for days, weeks, months. You donít need them anymore but you donít know anything else. And itís a Wednesday, so you kneel on the floor and put your head down, hug yourself and cry. When youíre
done you clean up, put on makeup (no mascara) and go outside. You put on your hat and scarf and exit. Go to your friendís house and eat dinner as if nothing is wrong. Even they donít buy it. They know, but they feed you and let you be. They walk you home or not, whatever you want. But the problem is; nothing is what you want. And so you realize, and you make changes. You make it work and you make yourself clean. Force yourself down the tunnel into the light. Even if itís still dim, itís lighter. Easier to carry. Itís a relief but you donít feel the relief because thereís no point in worrying about it anymore. And one day you donít even carry it with you. Youíre free.

And then somebody loves you, and you exhale, just a little, and wait to see what goes wrong. What gets fucked up this time? When does it turn? But it doesnít turn. Somebody loves you and they turn down the bed for you. Somebody cares and they look at you and smile, make you coffee and wash your back. Somebody draws you a bath and puts you into bed and somebody hugs you and keeps you awake at night with their snores.

You tell yourself it isnít what you want, and itís not going to be. And then suddenly it is. Itís just what you want. A friend whoís more than a friend. Someone to talk to, sit with silently, and someone who you return nice favors in kind. Who it feels as good to give to as get from. But then there it is, the other shoe drops, and itís gone. Youíve already been through the tunnel so you donít go back, you just sit there in the dim light and wait for spring, knowing you could do more than wait, but not doing it.

Do you ever think you pull away more from the people you like the most? A defense mechanism. Stay away from spilling it all, make yourself not care, not want to tell. So much so that eventually, you think you donít like them so much anymore. How could you like them if you donít want to let them in? If you want to keep it all to yourself? Hide it away and fix it before anyone really sees it. Fight your way through your tunnels and prove you're worth it. Finally come through that tunnel, stand up tall, look around. And youíre alone with no one next to you. And where are they? It doesnít matter. Theyíve all gone.

Posted by allison at November 22, 2005 07:37 AM
Comments

Good stuff.

There's a perverse comfort you get from having learned there's actually a bottom to the abyss and, hey, you've been there. Comes in handy sometimes, like an old, ugly, journeyed blanket you keep in the closet; totally unpresentable for any houseguest, but there for you, just you, on bitterly cold nights, when you need it.

Posted by: Mai Tai's Too Short at November 22, 2005 08:34 AM
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