PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

reeling in a dream, throwing back a nightmare

Sunday, Jul. 28, 2002
“t” (Sun 07/28/02 11:54:16 AM): hello?

“t” (Sun 07/28/02 11:54:31 AM): I was just checking to see if you were on

“t” (Sun 07/28/02 02:04:36 PM): I hope that I can catch you in the morning...

“t” (Sun 07/28/02 02:05:13 PM): I want you to know that I will be having sweet dreams becasue they will be about you!

“t” (Sun 07/28/02 02:05:18 PM): g'night

This weekend…. entirely all about caffeine and “t”.

And then I cut loose one major thing that was hurting me. Slicing my retina’s daily, bleeding into my soul. I walked away from someone I never thought I would walk away from and I had no urge to turn back and laugh because I already know he’ll come tapping on my shoulder one day when it’s raining in his world. I hope that there’s massive amounts of sunshine in my day the hour he does it. I hope I can scoff, brush the dirt off my shoes onto his welcome mat and grin when I say “once upon a time I walked away and when I got there I found what I was looking for.” And he can look at me with those dumbfounded eyes under all the stupid 80’s perfect hair and I will truly laugh not at him, but at myself for really ever thinking he mattered, for ever caring that his name lit up on a piece of glass.

I have no remorse or pain anymore over “him”. Brad was a chapter in my life but I was a page in his. I was the footnotes to everything else going on in his life. And some days he spit down through all the words onto those little notes striving to be read first. I never was read first. I was on a page turned back and forth but never understood or read.

And where does this realization come from? It comes from seeing Josh’s smiling face flashing $33 worth of books across my screen like a film strip grin. It comes from “t” playing 20 questions with me and my knowing from the answers to my tough questions that he’s all about the “truth” and that I can trust his answers to always be slow coming forth, truth laying down for me to love back. It comes from my son watching cartoons at 7 a.m. and the only thing I can really think about is how the sun makes his face look entirely cherub like and isn’t that a glorious memory to capture in your mind. Golden skin flecked with youth gleaming eyes forward hair tousled. Life. That is life. It comes from explaining my love for my son, my fears, my desires to have my life be my own and not about a title I accepted long ago and gave up the definition for. I want to relearn my own definition so that when I use the word “kristy” in a sentence I fully understand the depth of the meaning to that passage. Large realizations found in the presence of someone who accepts me just the way I am, battered, bruised, beaten, torn, ripped like pages from my not so Holly Hobbie former life. “t” told me he doesn’t remember his parents ever saying they loved him. That saddens me because I understand it from my youth, but I don’t want to hear those words from someone so intrinsically good.

I told “t” about my parents, about my Uncle David, about a can of spaghetti sauce thrown all over my room like a scene out of Mommy Dearest screaming “no WIRE hangers” and he didn’t say all those stupid things everyone else says. He didn’t say, “that sucks” or “how horrible” or “what did you do to them”. He said , “come sit by me.” A calm silence passed and he said, smile…next question. And we resumed our 20 questions game. And I never felt so accepted in my life. He didn’t ignore me. He accepted and moved forth.

I can’t even explain to anyone what the last 2 days have felt like. Some surreal trip to the moon eating cotton candy sleeping on clouds driving matchbox cars to playskool houses by the sea where purple dolphins swim in crystal clear blue seas. That’s my best attempt.

I’m happy. I am filled with trepidation and caution and a thousand questions looking always looking for some sign. Some red flare. And when it didn’t come I created a problem. And he said, “you can’t think something’s just bad because everything else always has been…can you?” And I broke down face in hands, tears wet….saying nothing. And he typed, “don’t cry…I want you to be happy”. At one point I said, “I shouldn’t do this all to myself again.” He said, ‘try not to rob yourself of happy’ I got a glass of water, sucked the past all back in and sat back down and took a long hard look at a possible future.

I never went to sleep last night. I just stayed up so that tonight I can crash like a bear in hibernation and get up tomorrow morning to go to work. It’s been 21 hours so far that I’ve been awake and all I feel is happy. All I’m doing is dancing around my house to 100 CD’s rotating in my stereo. I’m so fucking happy…and this just never happens. I’m drowning in it. Fluffing up my hair for no one to see. Wearing sexy underwear for no one to touch. I’m just happy. Happy with a capital H. And right now all I truly want is for that boy to be sleeping with a smile because it’s tonight there. He’s only a day away. He’s living in tomorrow.

-PoeticaL

Through the foreign fields
Watch me fade away
In a lighter shade
Here comes yesterday
We are everything
We are wide awake
-Home Town Hero

I don’t know where you are
But I know you’re there
You might be just a dream
But still don’t care, yeah
-Home Town Hero
3:41 p.m. ::
prev :: next