vanilla raindrops

email: noreia@planet-save.com.

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body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by BodyPUNKS!

 

"losing the star without a sky. losing the reasons why. you're losing the calling that you've been faking. and i'm not kidding."

I've felt it, the pressure. The drab empty everything. Wondering if you're there, wondering if I even want you. And I didn't want to go tonight, to see the girls, the laughter, the food, the light. I wanted to dig deeper into a forged identity, and I wanted her to stay with me. But I knew she wanted to go, and I didn't not want to go that much. I didn't really want anything. I didn't know what I wanted.

So we went, listening to nothing on the way there, our headlights floating over black paved streets. And we got to the house of young girls and chocolate cookies and soft brown walls. Sat around, started talking, and Dee looked upset and I thought it was because we weren't being "Christian" enough, "Bible-study" enough. But then she started crying, because we were talking about depression, and she knew that, she understood it. I said I'd hated God and she said, "Yeah!" and I was surprised. I said I'd decided not to believe and she'd done the same and I was surprised.

People surprise me all the time. I have them nicely categorized, without even realizing it, and then Katie does something crazy-teenager-sarcastic, or Dee Dee says something so real and desperate and not-perfect-Christian, and I just kind of stand there and blink, because, as Denise says, "I don't know what to do with that." I don't.

I find myself in tiny spurts of awe, sometimes, throughout the day, at people, or at the way the dining room light reflects off of Kema's silver fridge, making wavy glowing snake lines, and how they instantly become darker and more vibrant as she turns off the kitchen light. Or at the plants illuminated glowing green, looking at them from the bottom, sunlight through big round leaves, under a bridge. At babies' callous-free feet. At cats -- little people -- "little dwarfs" as Denise said.

So tonight. We all talked, flowing words of humanity and pain and questioning. And somehow, slowly, I started to feel okay again, that small fire of deep okayness in me was there again, and I was trying to explain it to Spike later as a rightness feeling -- about the future, everything -- a feeling that it's all going to be okay. And as I was saying this I realized, maybe that's hope. Funny how one word can re-reveal itself to you over and over.

I want to feel okay, I want to be okay. That's what everyone wants, right?

Later we were sitting on the couch together, watching them play guitar and sing, their voices blending together in color, in liquid, "Abba Father . . ." I was stroking her hair away from her face, feeling so . . . protective. So much love. I want her to be okay forever. I want everything good for her. If that has to do with me leaving, in a crazy God-way that I may never understand, then so be it. Beautiful soul, know your Creator, let me not get in the way of that, no matter how much I may want to sometimes. No matter how lost I may get. You're growing in a way that no longer depends on me, which was hard to deal with, but it's right. Like a plant that I rescued outgrowing its pot -- it has to have soil, the real earth, which, no matter how much I try, I can't create for it -- I can only put it there and let it be there.

We're going to be okay, right dude? We're going to be okay.

Posted by: noreia at 00:45 | link | comments (3) |