I’ve gotten over thinking about what happened repeatively. Though sometimes the weight of it sits on my chest, approximately where my heart should be, it weighs more than most things I try to forget. What was it about those few weeks? That keeps me coming back to them, something strange and taboo; some of the things that just happen to certain people? Who would have guessed I’d become another girl you slept with, and you were that one beautiful mistake I made that September. Who between us had the foresight to see it all?

I still can remember the first moment I saw you, that exact second in my life. Your hands were busy with something illicit, your big bright eyes flashing wildly at me, even then you were so careless, yet somehow so purposeful you seemed to me. I’d like to believe I meant more than what I inevitably turned into. A nameless face, a once upon a time, a girl from that one town, somewhere there lodged between the others. I’d like to believe I mattered in some fashion no matter how small. That I at least got an honorable mention in your book of life, much like the nod in mine you’re getting right now.

Initially I was some black haired girl that you always marveled at, you made sad comparisons between us that always made me feel uncomfortable; about your upbringing your parents, your life, your mind. I remember when I took you home with me; you saw my mom’s house and said aloud, “I’m ashamed.” Those words still sound off in this fucked up head of mine sometimes. You couldn’t figure out why I was speaking to you, I guess I still don’t have the answer for you. Maybe I thought I could save you; give you stability, something of a chance. I think I was wrong; you never wanted any of that did you Zach?

You were this blue eyed boy that I loved instantly.  Not at all in the pity sense, but I loved you as all dark things are to be loved, in quietly and in secret, you were such a train wreck to me. I remember your beat up right hand, mad at something you couldn’t control, something you Leo’s have imbedded in you. I loved your big laugh and the fact you are the polar opposite of me in every sense. It’s still funny to me how many things I can look back happily on even the times you made me furious can still make me smile.

I think it’s crazy that for whatever reason you entered and exited my life, I’m thankful for it ultimately. I can say honestly I’m glad we crossed paths, if only for this weird combination of fondness and resentment I now have, I still appreciate all of it. It’s still nice to say I knew you once. Not only a question about the reasons or because you made me feel valuable at one time, or the fact that all of these memories might now be useless to me. Much like the way I am to you.

I can only hope you understand what I mean.

God did I ever love you, I think back on what a fool I was for you. How I would have died for you, if that were an option.

I look back on what transpired, on how hard I fell, and that I didn’t realize how far until I landed there.

And on how long it took me to pick myself up,  and to not cry every time I heard your stupid last name.

I hate being the only person who knows you’re a fucker! And yes sir you still are. I can’t forgive you for the things you are.

I don’t think you are a gift to Columbia City High School, or that you are the greatest thing in the world.  (unlike so many others.)

I hate seeing you walk down the streets, in “MY” town, of all places. You still look awful by the way.

I am glad that I apologized to you for calling you a miserable bastard on your birthday. because it was mean to do that.

I hope your 20 something year old girlfriend is into anal, god knows that you are.

(yeah that was uncalled for, but i’m in the anger phase of the grieving process.)

Clearly Kayla is still bitter about him…. clearly.

I’m sorry that when you were little I used to leave you behind, or scare you unnecessarily.  I was a bad big sister for the better half of your life, I didn’t understand nor sympathize with you sadness, I was ashamed and confused by it. I’m sorry I was a strung out piece of shit when you looked up to me the most. I can’t imagine what was going through your head seeing me like that, so many days a week. Jesus, I feel guilty.

I can’t believe how angry I allowed myself to get at you and your mom. How bitter and foul I am to this day about the situation, it’s not right. I hate being too proud, it comes with the sign I guess. Maybe that’s why we butt heads so bad being 2185 days apart, same sign same week same person. Me being 5 years and 51 weeks older… Damn I hate feeling this way. I’m torn I really am between loving my little sister and loving myself, tricky business.

I’m sorry I beat the shit outta you and Goose the day you stole my black fingernail polish, and wiped your ass all over the window of my car. I should have laughed with you not punched you.  I miss being your big sister, I miss being your best friend, I miss jokes that nobody else dare understand, watching you eat 12435 bags of popcorn and smoking cigarettes in my old car. I miss you Ali.

I promise to never speak in Ebonics to you.
I promise to always consider your feelings.
I promise to show you things you’ve never seen.
I promise I’ll never hang up on you out of anger.
I promise to watch you do “boy” things admirably.
I promise I won’t bitch and complain, like normal.
I promise I will let you wear the pants in this relationship.
I promise I will never let my honesty compromise your sensitivity.
I promise to shave my legs.
I promise I won’t say fuck as liberally as before.
I promise I will write you some really choice love letters.
I promise your mother will like me.
I promise to listen and respond.
I promise I will sing to you, in random places.
I promise you will be appreciated, and loved unconditionally.

I promise.

We hugged like we both had sunburns keeping our touch light and airy, as to not inflict pain.

Does this mean we lost face?

Tangled up in awkwardness, with many things left unsaid: as to not probe too deep.

We are overlooking something pivotal here, right below the fine print and just above the John Hancock’s.

Does this mean we were dreamers?

Spinning blankets of fabrication and makeshift pillow good nights. Somewhere there, just ahead: all the shit you’ve ever said.

Yes, I still miss you…

I wish I had a vehicle, driving around in this brisk  night air seems awfully fulfilling it seems like something I want to do again, I never ever appreciated driving until I lost the ability to do it. It was taken away from me on my own accord and that for lack of a better term really sucks ass. I love hanging my arms out of moving cars fighting/dancing with the wind. Letting my hand fall up and down up and down again, in winter this activity is too bitter. When the sun shines it is pleasant and refreshing.

I love the simple pleasures in this life. They really do make things better. I am a pretty cynical person but little things in life make life worth living. I will stick my feet or hands in pond or lake water, but I refuse to submerge. I can appreciate pond scum only on my phalanges never completely. I love the weightlessness of water, and how seemingly graceful twists and somersaults are. I love phone calls that are worthwhile, I’m glad I picked up Asacia’s call today, she seemed like she needed the familiarity of my voice. As I often find myself doing with others.

     The birds are outside. They are singing to one another, animal conversations are so interesting. I wish I was like Dr. Doolittle. I want to know the secrets they keep, I want to know their attitudes how they interact how they love. I want to know everything about nature. I want to have a deep Zen like understanding of the world around me.  It starts with the swallows. They are the closest living thing near me besides the spider curiously looking at me from the corner.

     He needs to get out of here, he is invading my space. I think it’s funny how humans stake their claims to EVERYTHING! From the grass to the trees the rail road tracks to the sky above us all. Naming streets and bridges, drawing boundaries at the drop of a hat making it their own claiming possession. This might not be fair; in fact I know it isn’t. This land was not meant for popular sovereignty. Why can’t we share? We’re all selfish bastards.

     It was not intended for any of this. We were not intended for any of this.

     I think I’m going to leave my phone off and do this damn thing, I’ll slave away and sweat it out over white primer and pansy petal purple paint. It’s a mini adventure for myself. Get motivated and accomplish this could be a test.

I want to score high,, goodnight..

     I hate that pompous black man; he is the quintessential bastard of the 20^th century FUCK O.J. Every time I see his smug face I want to personally kill him. I want him dead and hanging blank expression from a rope. Why it that people with money will uncouthly get acquitted? Can someone please answer that to me? I seriously believe you can buy your way out of hell if the price is right, celebrities are perfect examples of this.

     It makes me angry. Like so many other things celebrities make me mad. I become unsettled and I resort to being a prick. Could it be that I am envious of the life they lead, that things are seemingly very very easy? The answer to that is yes, every bad thing I have ever mustered I have had to deal with the consequences of my actions. Where as so many have not. Celebrities get under my skin they are social scabies. I can’t see them but there actions and there carefree lives burn away at me.

     But, do I really believe that my problems would be solved with mere millions? Yes. Yes I do, money could buy me happiness. I understand why people make movies and music why people write books. I get that, I think that the underlying denominator is money cold green flat money, by the stacks if you please. I would have a car, no fuck that I would have 2 cars. One car strict to and fro purposes and one just to rub in the faces of others.

     I’m no better than rich people. I want to make others jealous. I am guilty of being the very things I loathe in this world. No wonder I can’t stand myself at times. I am a perfect portrait of all the bad and all the good, I am a contradiction. I hate big business yet I endorse them daily. From the cigarettes I smoke, to the Pepsi I drink, to the shirt I purchased from Wal-mart 3 days ago. How can I break this cycle comfortably? I don’t want to be uncomfortable. It’s a vicious circle. And I’m in the middle smoking a Marlboro drinking a pop dancing in between the Windex and dog food.

     I watched the movie into the wild last night. I watched it alone, out of loneliness and out of boredom. I liked this story. It scares the shit out of me to think of someone with so much freedom. To see this country in all of its glory, to do all of this completely alone… Sure he had met some very interesting characters along his travels but when it came down to sleeping at night to eating to dancing to talking this dude was in fact alone.

     I like that idea, I probably think about it a lot less than I used to. But the prospect of no one bothering me or harassing me seems dangerously orgasmic. I used to have these dreams or visions if you will of me alone living off the bank of a mountain deep in the wilderness. A large log cabin: with open spaces and windows overlooking the trees somewhere lost to everyone else but me in Canada maybe. I’d have dogs; Newfoundland‘s their breed name strangely synonymous to the life I would lead.

     I used to dream about discovery much like that movie I wanted to see taste and interact with this world in a way that was not manufactured, political or humanity centered. It seemed like the life for me. I could sing loud I could dance naked I could build rustic looking art; I could paint the scenery in a moose hat if I wanted. I would be freed from prying eyes. I could do whatever it is that I wanted.

     But all of these things neither negate a certain amount of courage. You have to be ruthlessly ballsy to do anything in the first person. Maybe the rest of us don’t think like I do. I think that every single act requires the ability to lose fear. The majority of humans are crippled by fear, we refuse to take any sudden action because of it, and we sit around and plot around it. We walk into the problem looking for the exit signs. “How can we maneuver around our fears?”

So changing this behavioral pattern that i’ve been doing for the past ohhhh i dont know 20 years, will be hard but i will work on it and thats the best that i can do.

I just need to have faith in the fact that good things are going to happen to me. Eventually.. as much as i hate that word… eventually, that’s all i have to cling to at this point.. I’m ready! lord knows I feel i’m entitled to it.

Patience is a virtue… maybe they are right.
cross your fingers for me,