ramblings of a child

I had a breakdown today. Actually, it was more of a crackdown- not as showy or dramatic, and composed of little things that gradually piled up and piled up and grew larger and larger until- goodbye peace of mind.

The little things are the decisions that have lead me here- in a dorm room in college with my major requirements before me on my computer. Here, in a room that I want so desperately to be silent but whose walls are thin enough that I can hear my neighbors doing god knows what with god knows whom. In friendships that seem to be chipping away at my remaining energy, at my precious time, unreliable souls demanding reliability and loyalty of me.

And I gathered myself together, drank some water, did some homework, cried a little more in a dirty dorm shower, and then rested.

My resolve from this day onward?

To get over my fear that all is useless, that the path that I’m following with every ounce of my energy goes all the way to nothing.

How?

To realize that the energy that I use is never truly wasted. Science upholds that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; rather, it can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another. Life is cyclical, and if I input energy into something or someone, that energy will return to me as I journey down the unknown path of human existence.

You know what I’m about to say.

You see it every day when our eyes meet and smiles form.

It’s not a surprise. We both know

That I’m the least subtle of living and loving humanity.

We’re not really showy lovers,

Not part of the exuberant world of pda and sloppy kisses.

Our love is veiled with privacy,

Hidden behind glazed mirrors, and opaque bath curtains.

But it’s not because of shame

Or a Victorian sense of propriety, but because we have

Here together a complete life, without the need to slap

Our life-love in people’s faces.

Knowing you is such a blessing, an undeniable gift.

Knowing you isn’t stagnant,

Isn’t a blocked, musty pond, but an ever-flowing river

Headed to the unknown future.

It’s an adventure, a story in progress, music moving

Toward the resolving chord.

Knowing you, loving you, is such a great experience.

In the absence of danger and challenges, the living world is wired to become lax, to become complacent. So when true challenges come, like humans hunting for anything and everything, the next chapter in the story is extinction. 

Maybe that’s why, after the honeymoon period, relationships fall apart. 

Because we’re so used to calm skies and clear starry nights guiding us home, we can’t weather the storm. 

But what do I know? What do you know?

Will we ever know before it’s too late? 

Along concrete highways and beer cans.

Yet bounces between my smile and hers,

Always pointing out the little perfections

Brought out by laughter and pointed wit.

It has followed us throughout the story 

A long story of  a little life, softly lived,

Aching and loving and hating and hoping

But always gazing upwards for direction

From those steadfast stars sweetly guiding us,

Make the wound under bleed, restarting healing

Or reveal a pink, healing scab, a sin resolved

Proof of problems acknowledged and solved

In this case, I have no second thoughts

The temporary fix has been on too long

And I care too much for my own sanity  

To sacrifice myself out of magnanimity.

You can rant and rave and seethe and swear

But here I am, as both immovable object and

Unstoppable force, declaring the end of hurt

That is the cherry gracing our love inert.

And here, at the end of a painful era,

I remove a bandage so I can truly heal.

Goodbye, my one-time secret-keeper

Today was a day of summer bursting through the dead of winter. It was one of those ridiculously perfect clichés of a day, one that you see in those teenage dramas, with an annoyingly catchy pop song playing in the background. There was a shopping trip involved, a blur only set apart by queuing for the fitting rooms and payment, and waiting for that impossibly long receipt to print, and that overpriced frappuccino to be made. 

If it was a drug, it would be pain-killers. Something that gives you a reprieve for a few short moments, only to return the pain twofold if you don’t take it again.

If it was a drink, it would be bubbly sweet pink champagne. Something you raise high in the air in celebration, and that, all too soon, turns flat or is consumed. 

It’s like your bank account- you try to get that six-figure balance only to deplete it on days like this. Today was the opposite of 0 to a 100 real quick.

Save, spend, rinse, repeat. 

Challenging not me, but Fate and Fortune and the specialist 

That told you that the reason for your pain was cancer’s visit.

I crack a joke, something about giving you my hair 

(shiny black, straight as a ruler)

If science decides that yours (blonde, curly) must be sacrificed. 

We both know that the reason we’re being humorous 

Is that if we stop, if we truly stop and become quiet and think,

Saltwater, like the ocean we visited last week, would flow.

So we smile and make molehills out of mountains.

Just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, so our love wasn’t realized overnight. No; that happens in movies and in soulmate fanfictions, not in our human existence. We have to muddle through the murky byways of Fate and Fortune until we find each other and our paths beyond the bog. 

We don’t have our lives written out for us, don't have showy bursts of fireworks when we understand ourselves and each other. We reveal our knowledge in quiet smiles, in breaths held when you do something so utterly human it’s divine. 

When we first met underneath Doric columns

And you saw the sun, you lover of Apollo,

Rise up from behind the rocky hills.

Do you remember what you told me?

I saw your hair glow, gold-gilt, and 

That was the first time I thought you to be 

Sun-god of my blasphemous drunk mind,

And I wanted to fall on my knees and worship.

And you said: we were written.

I asked you where, because I am a child

Of Selene, of cool light of darkness, while

You are fiery-red burning brandishing light

Of the noon sun and the heat of the desert.

Written in the sunrise, you explained.

You said you were the mouth of Apollo,

That our lives were entwined like the sea

And the sandy shore, and that sunrise was 

Where calm night and busy day met.

Wet noses nudging when emotions unhinge

And tails happily wagging hello, welcome home

Little yaps when tummy rubs commence, 

And not so silent snores during sofa naps.

Coming back to an empty apartment- no more:

Now there are ever-present toys in the kitchen,

And a little doggo running for all the hugs,

Or a treat, or both glorious, amazing things.

Thank you so much! And please know that your poetry is beautiful because it’s uniquely yours. no one can write poetry exactly like you, and that’s the glory of it all.

Love,