#frnds

my brother @logicdriven just dropped his new book! i don’t ask for much—but please do yourself a favor and buy a copy of this. don’t cheat yourself, treat yourself.

if it wasn’t for death and @s—symbols of love crashing, echoing until forevers meet again. if they had more time together. if there wasn’t a race or an arcade. if there weren’t problems with the babysitter. if we never planned a surprise. if it wasn’t for my sister...

if it wasn’t for my space carved from words carved from crying behind laughing behind drug dealing. if it wasn’t for a hurricane there might not be a tornado. if we would have never met. if we didn’t know what we know about each other. if either one of us ever went through with it. if it wasn’t for my brother...

told tied knots are tougher to pull apart when they’re wet. it’s raining. and today is your lucky day. and your lucky day. so nerves cover this park we separately pace and…wait—i practice what i know i’ll forget. my brother fathers—good lessons for a young man who might never remember specifically but will remember, definitely. and, sometimes, he just stands there—frozen in all that’s happening, tailored perfectly—heavy with the wait. she’s fashionably late—but they’re both heavy on fashionably. that’s definitely white. but it could be mauve. it could be pink.

this is the movie. so that rain cloud steps aside to watch her walk in, in slow motion—to give god a clear view of his work, to give their guardian angels the angles they deserve—in tow, young her and her younger brother—her, a mother, a sister—walking into wife. people stare from the side—they don’t say a thing—speechless. and they should be. and me too. but i can’t afford to be. the air is heavy. she cuts through, sharp, to the fountain—easy. this is the movie. it’s their world, but, right now, it’s my turn.

all time nervous, i start this sermon—my mouth goes dry and i think about that little bottle of fiji they gave me when i checked into this city, sitting by that tree, away from me by 97 feet. but i do get through it good. and discover that rain cloud hasn’t moved away, just closer and closer—now, directly *in* my eyes. and i cry 4 lines into her perfect vows.

i pay myself for losing the bet i made, with me, that i wouldn’t—change the pocket of my wallet. my brother to my right and still left—he’s next. i wipe my eyes. he starts. but, i swear, that tricky eye cloud…

my eyes have never seen love like this. this close. this real. and they overrun, again…probably like 2 more times. i pronounce. i get dizzy. i forget to tell them to kiss. they never mind me. it’s official. and i officiated.

then that cloud goes right back sky to cry. guess it took a break for the forever. but it still needs to get it all out, in full—not just through me or lee or bailey or janai or j or ronnie—it needs to be completely free. and we get hit with the happy tears of those we love that couldn’t be here—turns out, i wasn’t even the only one who has never cried “happy tears,” until then.

i’m telling you: there’s this one picture where he’s looking at her exactly like he should be looking at her—all the admiration, all the adoration—maybe some surprise that all the… *everything else,* that’s happened, still led him here, to her—to this day. and she’s looking *through* the camera—some way to say, “you goddamn right!” to life and all the things that could have happened to make it so this day didn’t happen. like…”hey, all those things, you lost.” she looks to be staring those things away as they slink away, in defeat and shame. keep going. make sure they’re gone.

but time stays to congratulate. because time is just classy that way. there’s an entire world past that lens. it belongs to you two. you can tell she knows. but there’s this one rain drop that’s absolutely going for an oscar in its performance as a single tear—right on the rim of her left eye, as the camera clicked. it’s perfect. you have to see it. it’s incredible. man…it’s all incredible.

since then, a day hasn’t gone by that i haven’t thought about how i could *feel* their love while standing there. like…physically feel the pull and force of it.

i think there is one moment, in everyone’s life, that we’re made perfectly aware that we’re actually always just balancing ourselves up—this was mine. and i’ll never forget when i was wobbled this way to make me concentrate on my weight. and i prayed to gravity for mercy.

i think we all held on a little tighter, to the ground, in that park as to not be swept in or away, on their day.

anyway…i hadn’t had my life changed in a good while.

this is what i was trying to say: if it wasn’t for them, i might not be alive.

hmm. well, i *do* be needing to spend a lot of time by myself—i have to recharge from being social and i just write and i just enjoy my own time and mind. plus, i have a pretty full life—that’s with all the joy and pain that a full life comes with. so i live it. and it can be hard to pin me down or reach me when i’m living it. and i write. and that takes time. alone time.

i’m also just not able to maintain consistent presence to people i’m not in love with. and even with those people, it gets difficult. and i know that “in love” is usually reserved for romance and such, but if that’s the highest level of love—being “in” it, i definitely feel that for my friends and family—friends who are family. i’m just a pretty moody person, honestly. and if i don’t “feel” like doing something, i just don’t do it. but that sucks for people who expect more from me. i can be pretty charming and amazing when i’m around, but i also disappear without explanation. and i really hate explaining myself. i’m sure it’s a bother to people who have seen me be present and funny and charming and caring. but i don’t think i could ever be that if i was always that.

also, i’m bipolar II. meaning there are times where i go through manic periods and i have a lot of energy, i talk to people, i make plans and promises, i’m extra charming, funny, productive—all that. and to people who don’t *know* me...like all the way know me, it can just seem like that’s how i am and it can feel good and normal to them. they wouldn’t even notice, honestly. but depression also comes with that. there are days where i can’t get out of bed. or i feel so disconnected from the world and any meaning. i tend to withdraw during these periods. and i only talk to my best friend. but not even about how i’m feeling. it’s a drain. i feel like a drain. i feel like a burden. and i would rather not trouble people with that part of me. i just feel like such a disappointment. and i don’t want to disappoint people. (which i know my distance does as well—i know) and, sometimes, i cycle between them with no break of “normalcy.” it gets hard to even know what normal is.

also—and i’ll wrap this up, soon—i don’t feel like just because i have a device in my hand that allows people access to me whenever they feel, it should be so—that’s not fair. i don’t demand it of people and i would rather they not demand it of me. i still fuck with people, even if i don’t hit them right back. or back at all. or back for days. i don’t be feeling like talking all the time. and i don’t feel like saying that either. if there’s an emergency, i’ll be there. but everything doesn’t require my attention. and everybody doesn’t get to have my presence when they want to. i just really don’t be feeling like it, sometimes. that’s due to all the above reasons. and plenty more that i can’t even get into. i also do NOT have a good memory, i’m pretty self-involved, selfish, moody and i really be overliving and over living, A LOT. if i was ideal to every person who wanted my time and presence, i would have ZERO time for myself. i do have to pick my spots. i have to pick myself.