I don’t remember why I want you so badly.
I don’t remember how you got into my brain. Tiny and microscopic. Like a virus. Spreading through my cells and contaminating my nervous system. Boarding the trains and turning the passengers into copies of you like that bad guy in the matrix who always wears the sunglasses and multiplies himself infinitely to try to beat Neo. The One.
I don’t remember why I came here but I think I wanted something. Something in this room. Something in this state. Something in this body calling out to me and asking me. Inviting me. To show up for myself in the way that I crave for others to show up for me. Telling me to stop taking everything so personally. It’s not about you and it’s all about you. Darling, don’t you see? It’s what we call a paradox and they’re all over the place here in the Matrix. You’re bound to run into one eventually.
I don’t remember why you called my name. In the rain. It was late and I was in pain. It was too little too late and I was already gone and you were shouting to me out of the train window as it chugga-chugga-chugged into the distance. Steam billowing up from the spout at the front. Lifting up in white fluffy tufts until it became one with the clouds.
I don’t remember who made me this way. So broken. Like a vase that’s been shattered. You can see all the jagged edges. You can see the scars of where I have been cut before. But I have fashioned myself back into a vessel that is seaworthy through the grace of God and the help of all of my angels and guides. I have filled in the cracks so there are veins of gold that run through me in the broken places. Strongest in the broken places. Why do we try to hide them? That’s what I should have said when he asked me what I was looking for in a partner. I want someone who isn’t going to hide their broken places. Who is going to proudly show me where they have been and what they have done and tell me the stories of how much it hurt and how much they hoped before it all went to hell. I want someone who has lived enough to know the pain that I have. Someone who will understand and marvel at my humanity. Magical and ordinary. Glitter and dust. Sequins and sackcloth.
I don’t remember how to get out of here though. I am stuck in the bucket. The one with the hole and this liquid is swirling around me and drawing me down in a whirlpool. I’m fighting the current, but then I give up and I give in and I let the tears come because I am a human and I am allowed to cry when I have feelings that need to be released. I don’t want to be trapped somewhere without agency. I can’t stand the thought of it. I don’t want it. I want to be free. There is so much we take for granted. Having strength and feeling in our legs and feet so that we can walk. So that we can do yoga and point our toes and flex our ankles and push down the balls of our feet to drive. Just a few little things that of course one would take for granted. Until they are gone.
I don’t remember what the point of this all is. To slow down? I had a dream recently where a new friend who was younger than me had cut her finger quite deeply. It was going to heal well but her studies were slowed because of it and she felt as if she was falling behind. I explained to her with the calmness and wisdom of an elder, that sometimes we get hurt when we need to slow down. Maybe this is a message from the universe to take your time and take care of yourself and not worry about getting behind and just allow yourself the space and the breadth that you need in order to heal. Have patience. Trust the process. All of that. As I was talking to her I thought of myself and how much I need to hear that message. Or maybe that was afterwards when I had woken up and I was back in my crippled body. This message to slow down all around me and I’m still fighting hard to get through it as fast as I can. I keep on overdoing it and injuring myself in the process. But recovery is not a straight line it’s a tangled fucking mess of ups and downs and back arounds and how do you make heads of tails of any of it?
I don’t remember why I came here. But I am here. And I think it’s probably because I need to learn some shit. I need to transform some shit. I need to let go of some shit. And build some lasting buildings on strong foundations for myself and for the generations to come.