Monday, December 28, 2009

He'll if I Know

It wasn't bitter cold, it wasn't snowing. It wasn't a dirty slush day either, the one you have to dance the slosh to come home without frostbite but you're still soaked and freezing.

It was stay-at-home because you want to weather. It was a watch-a-movie-alone day. It was a clean-out-the-fridge-with-your-face-because-you-have-to-and-you're-leaving-tomorrow-anyway day.

I walked through the cemetery to drop off a Christmas present. There were two groups of people there: one, a group of undertakers placing the marble monolith over a fresh grave. The other, a large group of mourners under a blue polystyrene canopy all in black and driving vans. Apparently people die the week of Christmas too.

My friend wasn't home, so I left the present on the doorknob and walked back, avoiding the mourners and their eerily subdued children. I avoided the cemetery gate against which my once-boy-now-best friend had pushed me to kiss me harder than I wanted. I avoided the memory of the cushion of the chainlink against my back, I avoided his remembered whispers of apology and remorse after I pushed him off.

I walked past the basketball stadium, avoiding the two players coming out. I didn't ask them if they could give my friend a Christmas present: A date with one of their teammates. I didn't even stand up straight to my full height as I usually do when tall boys walk near me.

I got home and curled up on the couch with a blanket that smelled of new, hoping to avoid the draft by the window. It didn't work. Instead I turned on a girl-power figure-skating movie and drank the last of the bubbly in the fridge.

Except it wasn't bubbly. But I drank it straight from its long necked bottle. And threw out rotten avocados. And old cheese.

I also misread the words “three pair” - i thought it said “knee pad.” As these were in reference to socks, I didn't think it was too far of a stretch. Wouldn't you buy knee padded socks? I wouldn't, but that's just because no matter how long the socks are, they never reach my knees.

In other news: The definition of Thoguh (not though, THOGUH) derived from the Urban Dictionary.

(Drumroll, please)


clears throat

“Hell if I know.”

Thank you, thank you, please, save your applause for those that actually deserve it. No, seriously. SHUT UP.

Anyway, I like how it kinda sounds and looks like SHOGUN, which, everyone knows is a king-like figure thing in eastern cultures. I think.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009


I watched your eyes fill with tears and you cave in on yourself, leaning forward, hunching yourself to your knees in a paroxysm of grief. I didn't know why, but I could see your pain streaming down your face, wracking your shoulders.

You lifted your face, your eyes reaching for mine, searching for relief. You asked me silently for something I couldn't give you. I couldn't stop the pain.

But I could offer some comfort against it.

I opened my arms and you leaned into me, your wet cheek on my chest, your hot forehead against my neck. My hand stroked your face as the other tried in vain to hold your heaving shoulders together. Your arms dangled loosely, forgotten. I didn't mind, I didn't need your comfort. You kept it for yourself. Take mine, you need it. I'm willing to give it all.

Please, take all you need.

I don't know how long you remained in my arms. Eventually the sobs slowed, then stopped. Your ragged breathing evened and quieted, but still we sat. I lost the time, and forever touched a moment around us.

Your sticky tears dried against my skin, stiff and salty. Your eyes closed, soothed by my quiet humming and gentle rocking. You fell asleep in my arms as if you were my baby, even though you are older than I.

I disregarded your dead weight and the tingle in my curled legs. Your breaths were slow, rhythmic, warm. You were blissfully unaware. I couldn't bring myself to wake you.

I left your head resting on a throw pillow, your body warmed by a blanket, your mind eased by your dreamless sleep, your heart heavy, your cheek momentarily warmed by a single quiet kiss.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Thanks to Give Late

Thanksgiving on Black Friday

Thanksgiving this year wasn't used for thanksgiving. It took me until the day after to see just what I am most grateful for.

The day after is Black Friday, the day when crazy people camp out in front of stores just to get that one item for a ridiculously good price. Stampedes, claws, thievery, all rampant.

I wasn't one of the many shoppers, I was one of the poor saps behind the counter dealing with these people all day.

I had gotten four hours of sleep the night before, I woke up at 5.30 AM to get to work by 7, and worked 8 and a half hours. All I did was stand, push numbers, and talk to irate people, sometimes unintentionally feeding their anger.

I got home, went straight to my shower and intended to go straight to bed.

All i wanted was someone to hold my exhausted body in their arms and to give me a foot massage before I even asked.

I do know someone that would do that for me. Unfortunately he couldn't, because I'll not see him again for 2 more years.

I realized while sitting in the shower what I'm really grateful for.

I'm grateful that I know what it's like to have someone that would.

Two years. Two years for what? For serving his Lord and Maker, his personal Savior. Two years in constant dedication to the Lord, my God, Jesus Christ.

I miss him terribly and could ask him to come back any time. I won't, because I know how important his mission is. Even if I did ask, he wouldn't come, because he knows how important it is too.

As grateful I am for Scott and our wonderful, wonderful relationship, that gratitude shrivels next to the gratitude I have to my Lord and Maker, my personal Savior, my Lord, my God, Jesus Christ.

I can't express that here. I never will be able to, even if that's all I were to talk about every minute of my life.