The eve of another change, another move, another "new start."
I've been going through this season after season-- state to state, friend to lover, parents to cat, job to school, car to taxi.
Of course, you always gain from transition, but if I do it too often, do I fail to remember to bring everything along? Have farewells and new beginnings become so routine that I've been neglecting to fully embrace them for all their opportunity and emotional possibility?
[It's making me nervous how every day seems the same.]
But of course, I don't really know what good worrying about any of it does. I keep moving. I keep trying.
I'm never so bad off as to just quit. I always wait for the rainbow, so to speak.
I've become very conditioned to the practice of saying goodbye gracefully. I do it so well that it almost unnerves me-–the robotic way I can walk through doors, drive away, sign off.
It's probably not the best way to be-- I've always believed feelings are the most important possession. But if you decide NOT to feel-- I believe that doesn't make you any less the owner of those feelings. Perhaps you are just controlling them better? Perhaps you are just more powerful than a person who lets them spill out into their hands.
It's a very perplexing question.
I'll remember the panic attacks. I'll remember the massage. I'll remember the green tea.
I'll remember the candles. The guacamole. The... gift.
I'll remember the glasses. The dancing. The movies. The book. The job. The questions.
He was so beautiful.
I've been so patient.
Souvenirs from Christmas holiday 2009.