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.

Introspectus

Ever had one of those nights where you're so tired that you flop onto your bed and instantly fall asleep without even a blanket on top of you? And then in the middle of the night you half wake up and realize that you are, in fact, cold. But you are also ridiculously comfortable there, curled up and dozing that you can't bear to move and spoil the immense contentment wrapped around you in the blanket's stead. So you just lie there, wishing you were warmer but unwilling to do anything about it.

That's what I was doing last year. I was too comfortable that I didn't change anything until I simply couldn't stand it anymore. Until I realized that nothing was going to change unless I changed it. Until I realized that my misery was self inflicted.

Last year my misery made me into something I didn't recognize. I didn't even realize that the monster I'd become even existed. My misery made me angry. My anger made me sarcastic, caustic, and eager to inflict pain on others. I was malicious. I refused to meet new people. Since I refused to meet people, I forgot how to do it. I withdrew inside myself, unwilling to come out even around the people I loved the most. I spent my time doing absolutely nothing, making no memories, useful skills, or even talents. I did only what was required, and even then, only the bare minimum.

I contemplated dropping out of high school, even though I only had one term left and one class left to pass. I obsessed over men who brought out the worst in me. I lied skillfully to remove suspicion and bring more on others around me. I twisted words, situations, feelings, arms. I cared for no one, including myself. I did what I wanted, so long as it wouldn't get me in trouble that night. I respected visible boundaries while skipping gleefully around the ones I could easily sneak past. The smallest slights wounded me deeply and I refused to let them go. What once were molehills were now mountains, the mountains molehills. I scorned everything that I had once held dear. I forgot about the people and places and things I had once loved.

I thank God that this is no longer me.

I asked rhetorically last night, “What was I thinking?” The only answer I got was, “Maybe you weren't.”

He was right.

raptures and reveries

one of my dear friends recently said that she thinks that heaven must feel like getting into your bed after a long day.

she's right. it does. and yes,
i know what death feels like.

i was walking in the cemetery after dark. alone. it was mid-october.

i felt, i felt, nothing.

i couldn't feel my hands at the end of my arms, nor the toes at the end of my feet. but i wasn't cold.
and i didn't care.

i walked on, slowly. not wondering at it, but just taking it in. i didn't need to think about it.

i could see a full 180 degrees around my head, every angle with equal clarity. i didn't need to look over to see it, my mind simply concentrated on that spot and i knew what was there.

i was still alive - i could only see 180 degrees. i knew that if i had been dead i could see the entire sphere around my head. if i was dead i'd be able to see the ground below me concurrent with the sky behind me.

i walked on, hearing the sounds around me. i had no reaction for them, for they didn't matter. they weren't distant, i was.

i didn't need to breathe.

nor did i need my body.

it was like falling asleep after a really long day.