we recognize the bones
spent a good chunk of a lazy sunday afternoon, having a soul-fill catch-up/laughter/gossip session with k. she has seen me through my 20′s, in my best and worst form: that period of my life when a toxic non-profit job and environment wore me the fuck out; picking wayyyy too many fights at parties or bars because someone was being ‘________-ist,’ without regard for my safety and energy; drinking too much; working through the hurt and rage of unhealthy relationships, friendships, trauma; learning to communicate with more presence, less violence; and it goes on and on.
she’s still here for me. i’m still here for her. so we can be there for each other in delicately necessary ways. a history, an archeology. we recognize the bones.
she’s seeing someone who gives her many tickly butterflies in her tummy sort of way. i feel them with her, like omg! i also feel her confusion. what is the tempo of a relation, she asks. an emerging tempo, exorcised from these ghosts. can you protect it? we seriously consider, then proceed to crush-squeal like the excited little queer korean girls we are. now, i’m, 29, she’s, 31. we certainly didn’t grow up with it, but we had to learn it for ourselves: we prioritize the word and concept of ‘safety,’ like the excited little queer korean girls we are.
