my blog is not a goldfish. i didn’t forget you were here, waiting for the little flakes to fall like tears from a star.
i’ve spent the better part of today looking for myself, wondering what happened to me, if i might remember, and so that i don’t forget again. there have just been so many days in such a very long row that i’ve been lost, lost to myself, to my family, my friends, my neighbors, to you.
this afternoon i put in a few more hours working on my office. i found some of my tools in the garage. i’d missed calling them mine. i found spools of ribbon in a cabinet and remembered the christmases, birthdays and weddings i’d gotten them for. i hung rolls of pretty wrapping paper on freshly painted rods while listening to music i hadn’t heard in far too long. i heard forgotten memories in long-loved lyrics and found little bits of myself tucked into drawers, hidden away in boxes and slid between the pages of books.
the room isn’t finished and neither am i. i have so many things to do. i hear a thousand projects and unanswered thoughts calling my name. perhaps it’s here, in my own space, that i’ll be able to sort through them all.
i had a pet scan this morning. it should determine if i am in remission. it’s unheard results are weighing heavily on my heart and mind. it’s hard to focus when there’s so much to see through.
i still need help to get through most days, somtimes paralyzed by a fear that hangs on to me like a shadow. it’s hard to ask for help day after day. it’s hard to watch myself being consumed or idly slipping away. but even though i might not be all there, i am still here, waiting, just like you.
air, no people on the streets. when we woke up the next morning the wind had changed direction. the stench was unbearable. we stayed in the apartment all weekend, happy to be alive and at home with the pets and dr. roommate.
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