December 2009 Archives

see this? this is your trip. this is me actively not writing you notes, or hiding epic mixes in your messenger bag, or tucking sparkly little nothings into the pockets of your pants. this is me actively not buying you flowers, and actively not missing you. this is me not planning for your return. this is me knowing I'd mean every minute of every song I'd lay out end-to-end for you -- so instead, this is me with my headphones, on my back, on your carpet, volume up. sad for all the ways she might come back. sad for all the ways you haven't left me yet.

this is me asking every time I take your arm, because I need you to tell me you want me to. and this is me caging my heart like a crackpot art project when you say you're falling in love with me, because you aren't all the way here and we both know it. this is me actively not taking your face in my hands when you sit on my lap and ask about how it would be if we graduated. this is me texting a boy the first morning I left your apartment because I thought that there might be something here worth seeing clearly. this is me actively not crying on your bathroom floor because I think you might be someone I could try on for a while.

this is how no one ever looked at me like you \ before you did.

this is me pulling the threads out of the seams of your reservations and throwing them in a pile on the kitchen table to look at. this is not a series of your old reel-to-reels, of polaroids of your past and all the ex-girl collections. this is me. all neckties and wrists and faces and chairs; all movies and train windows and epic chord changes. this is where I make quite sure it hurts, on purpose, so that it all stays real. this is how I've changed \ by not changing at all.

and this, here... sigh. this is you. all big-eyed, gorgeous you. this is your impeccable taste in music, this is your wit and your character and your bravery and your bliss. this is your skin made up of pages upon pages out of notebooks, sorting your life out in black ink at the haymarket. this is all chandeliers, and wintertime, and the sight of you. this is all your busted-up pieces making you whole. this is me writing again.

this is me bearing my once-bloody, gaff-taped heart. wrapped in guitar strings, laden with scars, framed by a fixed lens. this is you making sense to me, and me making sense to you. and so then all of this, all this right now -- this is my truth. and until I tell you,and show you, and sing for you, this is me holding my cards to my chest. but this is still my truth.

editor's note: this is messy. and haphazard. and I might delete it and put something better up tomorrow or something. but at least it's a start.

--

so I kept getting fully and totally bombarded with spam comments to this entry called "I have to write." and so I kept rereading the entry thinking that it was some force of fate or some crap pushing me to see some finite detail and \ or reflect on this portion of my writing \ time in my life \ what have you. and then kristin is all, you know, maybe you have to write, or whatever.

duh. I mean, seriously.

so I haven't been writing. I've been thinking about writing a lot. but not actually writing. it's been a month and a half for both blogs. I can't blame it on the sun. I can't blame it on much. but summer was full and abundant and I didn't want to blog. and then the weather shifted and the busy didn't go away. and now the job that's making me nuts is about to change and fall tour started and then there was a lean-in and whoops! guess it's time to come out of the closet and then every available spare track I was even capable of thinking about having got taken up by six hundred degrees of that.

I suppose I should talk about that a bit. akin to the days when I'd do a full play-by-play of every single show I went to, pages upon pages that today are mere drive-bys. it's a bit anti-climatic, kind of more like a meat thermometer going off. ding! time to take care of this. no drama, no epic discussions with family members. no stickers to buy or forms to fill out or declarations to make. just the simple fact that I've been denying my reality, which has been that I'm attracted to women, and have been for over a decade now, and I've actively done nothing about it. so the day came when it was time to do something about it. actually, to be accurate -- the day came when one of my new-besties was brave enough to lean in. we've been friends since the springtime. I've admired her since we met. kristin was sick one night and a fake-date ensued. and right before everything, she asked me not to laugh.

believe me, there was no laughing. in the good way, I mean.

so cut to like, five weeks out now. there's a Thing. of course, there's a Relationships, since we are all People Relating To Each Other and therefore are all in Relationships With Each Other. but I think... well, it's dating. for sure. it just makes so much sense. she makes so much sense. all of those things I wanted and wrote about and lied to myself to create all those times -- they're actually all present now, and not of my own doing. out of just -- adulthood, and respect, and all of those grown-up things, I'll pull the brake up on the detail front -- but suffice it to say, there's dating and there's Let's See What Happens and it's great. and she's great. the 'we' that's developing, if you can call it that, is great. I'm out. it's awkward. but whatever. it's just time. and when it's time, just like any other facet of growing up or starting something or quitting something -- it's just time. so now it's time. and so that's really all I can say about that right now.

speaking of, I have little to none as far as that goes -- time, I mean. apparently now (as of a half-hour ago) I'm moving my desk on monday. yikes. so here's all these projects I'm not done with coupled with now moving and organizing things and I will likely spend the next 48 hours here getting Ready To Go. monday. days from now. where I was all ready to move on, where I stopped accepting unacceptable behavior and made some tough decisions, and everything fell into place. let go of relationships that aren't working and everything falls into place. now I just have to let go of this raging, incomprehensible level of ADD I've got cracking at work, and let all that fall into place.

and I should probably like, do my dishes or something. my shit's gross. I'm just saying. remember, when I said how kristin said "yeah, I might have a sink full of dishes, but I read a book" or however she put it? on some levels, I'm for sure getting shit done... and it's at the expense of things like dishes. and my floors. and my laundry. but I'm happy, and whole, and full, and prefunking christmas like nobody's business. there will be much cooking and love over at becky & andi's place. and there's parties to throw and shows to get to and beakings to beak and I'm in. I'm yes. I'm all of it, a little bit of everything. exclusive of last night, wherein I somehow managed to miss both jordan catalano In. The. Flesh. and a show that john roderick was doing for a fundraiser. idiot.

good thing I live in the greatest city on earth. there'll be more where all that came from.

till then, no naps, just snacks, and smelly catfood cans in piles on the countertops... ugh.

victoria

I'm not dead yet. I swear.