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I was super psyched yesterday to write a post and speak all lyrically and shit about my three hour jaunt in this city I call home. Then I was all, I’ll write it tomorrow, and just add some love for the amazing people who made Saturay night a rockin’ good time. Then I thought, oh crap, I’ve lost all the “inspired writer mojo” I had yesterday, and now I should just say eff it. And now I’m feeling remorseful, because I really did want to tell you about the lady who thought I was planning a robbery and how I missed the indoor farmers market by ten minutes and how I just remembered that I used to watch the first boy who ever bought me flowers for valentines day play pick-up ball at the Reiche school basketball court and about the former coworker I saw at the meat market but didn’t want to talk to and then I felt like the biggest douchebag in the universe because he had a grand mal seizure in the store and while I know it would have happened even if I had said hi, instead, I avoided him. I felt about half an inch tall as I collected my purchases and checked out. Walking home, I saw the fire truck headed to the store to pick him up and bring him to the hospital. It occurred to me that it took a hell of a lot longer for them to respond than I thought was right. But who was I to judge “right” when I had just done wrong by me.

This weekend has been so full of emotion, all over the spectrum. And I think that’s part of what keeps me in most of the time – I don’t want to feel so much. Because it is exhausting, my friends. It makes me tired from the inside out to FEEL, so much, all the time.

But, if I’m not feeling so much all the time… I’m not me. The beauty of the hidden flowers I found on my walk, the ache of the missing presence in my weekend activities, the love for my girl Lisa when we talked on the phone, the sense of acceptance and welcome I felt at last night’s fundraiser, the banter with Joshua while he played on the computer and I drifted in and out of sleep this morning, the one-ness I shared with the audience at the Nick, the comfortable fun I had with chosen family at dinner tonight… I do love that I feel all of that. And I want to keep feeling. Stoicism is not who I am.

I have so much to be grateful for today. And always.

Love. So many kinds of love, from so many awesome people.

Freedom to do and be what and who I want.

The knowledge that I have earned the trust of people who are important to me.

Family of every kind.

You. Yes, you, reading this right now. Thank you; I am eternally grateful for you.



5 Responses

  1. What I’m hearing, and shit I could be completely wrong, is that maybe you just don’t want to feel so deep. It takes a lot out of you to share that good with us, your friends (and trust me-I love ya for it but I want you to take care of *you* too!) and when it’s not good…it’s…really not good, because that takes a lot to recover from too.

    • Your comment brought tears to my eyes, Colin… That’s part of it, for sure. A friend said something on fb earlier about authenticity being painful. That’s how I feel about a lot of things we’re “supposed” to be. And I commented that I often resent those people who don’t have the awareness that I have, who don’t feel a need to be authentic, transparent, genuine, you name it. “Ignorance is bliss” has taken on a whole new meaning for me lately. I am grateful for my mind, my heart, the knowledge and abilities I have because I am smart and sincere and loving and empathetic. But I do sometimes wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to be less intelligent, both academically and emotionally.

      • Always remember I am a phone call away, available 24/7, and I *rarely* make myself available to friends like that, mostly because I have no idea when my meds will make me crash out if at all or I will stay up until 4 am. But you have

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