I am alive.
Still.
30.
Halfway to death?
I forgot to stop. Halfway through that second decade.
It just kinda. Fell by the wayside.
It fell to books.
It fell to music.
It fell to games, and kind strangers in classes, and a little bow on the front.
And so I didn't, I kept going another 10 years.
I fell in love. And again. And again.
Caught glimpses of myself in the reflections of other which pulled personality to the surface. Learned how to find those who pulled better things forth.
6.5 years of therapy.
Starting to be people's first experience in polyamory and learning about how Horrendous that is so often.
Looking around each year and realizing the last year's us were pretty stupid, pretty consistently.
Finding new tenants in our head every year or blowing the dust off some when we're finally painting again.
Having people fall for me, over and Over and over again. To be someone so fucking Amazing that people reach out over half a decade just to try to be friends on tiktok or something small like that.
And then they fall again. Cause I'm just kinda. Me. Again, and again.
People have to actively stay away from me otherwise they just keep Feeling such things towards me.
Starting up actual ass Hobbies that take Hours and Hours from our weekends and cause us to do shit in wildly ambient taverns with incredibly delicate little fuckers crossing the table in front of us while we eat poutine.
Learning how to build yourself up, learning you always have the possibility to fall. Learning you're always going to get back up.
And now I have a home.
I have a house, Jesus Christ I have a Home. I have three people who are over the moon about me and each one tastes different. I have people who want to plan events and do fondue and turn me into a twitching spasming mess or turn into origami under me and who take me out to get my favorite books and bring me downtown to share in Japanese street food and who cling on to my jacket in shitty dive bars and who pray to gods the thanks and Love they have in their soul for meeting me.
I have a family. I have people to pluck me along the melody of this life and Gods is it beating a staccato on the inside of my chest I am Marching with determination to the peaceful waters and warm fires of this Home.
I'm happy. Almost 3 weeks to sit down and do my damn birthday writing because I'm so fucking busy but I'm Happy.
I did it because I kept walking.
I'm going to keep walking.
And in another 10 years I'll look around and find I still have a family. It will look different, of that I'm certain. But they will be here. And I will be lucky to have them.
And things will be better! By The Gods I will Make Them Better.
Trite, yet true, To This Day:
It Gets Better.
