introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- finding home 2am - 2 august 2013 "i keep coming back here where everything...slipped."~the national there was a cold snap in pittsburgh for most of the last week but yesterday, i packed my car full of dear friends' belongings and helped them move. "the portland dream is pretty much over, right?" he asked. "we have things now. we have lives here. we can't ever leave." "no no no," i stopped him. "you just have to have a plan. i think i have it figured out." and maybe i do. my heart aches for solitude. i have told sean i'm leaving him when he is finished with school and can afford to go get a place on his own. i've told people but hey, you know. it's hard to leave someone with whom you live. i don't want anything. it will be easy to go. so here i am again. i skipped off to other places but listen, this was all i ever wanted. it was all i ever needed. this wasn't about a crowd. this was just about getting it out of me. i hefted boxes of books out of nick's row apartment on the top of a mountain. we all live in the city now. legit. none of that suburban stuff for us. no no no. he's publishing work and me? what happened? fast forward happened. technology happened. if you can do everything you can do on a phone and you get used to it...you stop stopping to think. lesson learned. nick never had much. a few car loads. mostly books, comics. now they've got furniture. i've got furniture. grown up stuff. antiques. what happened? i used to have cardboard boxes for end tables for fuck's sake. i packed my car twice with boxes. there were trips with a truck. you have to have a plan. and then a plan for when that first plan falls to fucking pieces. god, a lesson learned. have a fucking plan for when the plan walks out the door. i've turned off the news lately. i've gotten so i know when to quit it for awhile. i make grown up choices. this year, i'm turning 35. i've spoken his name out loud 5 times accidentally. this is out of nowhere. this is for no reason. i feel guilty. i've been so love-the-one-you're-with. that was the wrong game plan. i wasn't expecting to live this long. laughable. so nick moved from cozy to home in an afternoon. there's cleaning to do and boxes to unpack and walls to paint. there are new home noises to learn--all the creaks and the groans of a hundred year pittsburgh-house. i long for home. i ache for home. for awhile, this felt like home. it was pretty fucking close. i've made a lot of changes and it took a lot of time. i had growing up to do. it makes me relieved to say so. i have had stories to tell. i've kept them cooped up. i imagine packing boxes. i imagine a train ride. i imagine a migration. i understand my grandmother's life in a different way. i always wondered why she never remarried when my grandfather died so young...but i think i understand now. there are stories i am going to tell. and i'm going to tell them here. i'm going to stop to write them down. it was hot yesterday as we moved everything and i went to work after that. it was hot in the sun and my skin has tan lines around my watch. my wrist is getting slim. it was hot....but this summer, the nights have been cool. pleasant. and i've got time to stop and remember. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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