dear february.

dear february,

i’m sorry for all the bad things i said to you and about you and behind your back. you are cold and cruel, but you are lovely also. you didn’t hurt me; i hurt myself & tried to bring you with me.

you did not lie to me any more times than i lied to you or to myself. i was wrong. i am aware that i could have been different, if not for myself then for you, because you could not have been different.

you lose a day for three years out of four. you are unpredictable and dark, you are not tall. you are unfriendly. your shoes are thinning at the soles. denim shows the fat your legs are lacking. i could not love a thing about you, except that you exist. i still do. as you fade into the melting spring i will end up lonely and you will be a memory.

of walking in our winter clothes, of sunshine on cement. old coffee in a paper cup. i’m so much more than fine with that.

the memories are worth it and
i’m sorry. you are good.

2011 memory scrapbook.

because it’s the first day of 2012 and everything, and because i’m spending my day in my bed in my blankets with the window open and with a cup of bottomless coffee and gunther for company, i thought i’d take a look back at some of my favourite things from last year. because i fucking need to be reminded that good things happened last year.

it’s cut, because it’s long, and really only for me.

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weather.

an attraction less halted,
more swept with the
streets by the salt trucks

he tells me it’s been
a long year, thinned like
the bottoms of socks we would
fold on his bed,
deflated like bellies
emptied for
summer, bites from
the bugs in the grass, or limp,
fallen like leaves, as far as
we have to the floor.

i say i forget.
don’t remember that bed,
or the weather

bodymovin.

in my phone somewhere near the back, if that’s a thing, which it isn’t probably, there is a photo i found of him sitting across a table from me. once a long time ago i thought it therapeutic to organize the pictures from my phone. that was an overwhelming task. today when i went to do the same thing, when i tried to recall february because my nails are red and last christmas and our neighbours and the smell of peppermint and chocolate, when i went to do the same thing, i mean, i found that i haven’t taken any photos off my phone since the end of september when everything that was going wrong suddenly got better.

and that’s how i came across a picture of him.

logical explanations are the best.

now please excuse me while i do what i do best: drink cans of beer & dance to this with my fish, all day.

new list.

reasons i’m not giving up.

1. i got rid of the hat.
2. i have a date this week.
3. i have only a few friends, and i treat most of them like shit, but they are still my friends. they are always there when it’s really needed.
4. i’m working.
5. it’s fall!
6. i’m going to stop drinking (as much).
7. i have the best pros & cons list ever.
8. the terrible day i was dreading finally came and it wasn’t so bad after all.
9. i love my room & bed.
10. at least i have gunther.

trouble.

i just had a terrible moment.

i would snap somebody’s neck for a cigarette.
realizing this was not the terrible moment.

and i had a bad walk. which is too bad, really, because i was kind of on a roll there for a little while. only incredible walks. i’ve been on a lot of walks lately. they’ve been really good for me. even if they weren’t i’d still think they were pretty fab. i’ve found myself dragging my feet at three in the morning just to make it over the bridge and back home again, night after night and i don’t mind. i’ve been taken to places that make me quiet and content, which i’m still just learning to value. i’ve been exhausted and lost but completely alert. i’ve been interested and silent and anxious and curious and afraid in the best ways and i haven’t actually noticed until tonight. space cadet.

when everything disappeared i expected something to appear out of nowhere for me, like an exchange. or an offer. in reality, i knew nothing was coming. that’s the only certainty i had. the nothing i expected showed up in the exact place i had expected it to never happen. it made me laugh out loud by myself. it happened on a long walk. i wasn’t alone but i wasn’t really not alone, either.

this is the kind of garbage i come up with in my head when i’m not smoking. which is why i had a bad walk and a terrible moment. i haven’t walked aimlessly like that, alone in the middle of the night, in unbearable pain, since may when everything was so different. i feel twitchy and neurotic absolutely and wonderful.

but at least i didn’t break a neck. and even better, i didn’t smoke a cigarette. i’m a bit of a troublemaker, but i’m not so bad.

um camping.

i went camping a couple weeks ago & it was totally rad. it made me want to do a million things differently because for two tiny days that’s how they were done. i smoked quietly and alone, hidden in the trees. i kept a fire alive long enough to make fun of the guys. i saw a turtle swimming below the surface of the lake, i saw a fish jump out of the water, i paddled a canoe (j-), i swam until i thought i would drown and almost did, sort of. it was a nice almost-drowning though. we took the rain cover off the tent and i unzipped my sleeping bag and was calm and at peace and stared up at so many stars it felt like there was something wrong with the sky (some kind of pox?).

it was perfect.

it made me less lonely and when i came home i wasn’t depressed. i don’t know what happened. i guess it started when i had an out-of-town visit and we all shared the long car ride back home together and i realized (was reminded of) how simple it all actually is. how many people actually give a fuck about me, and care, simply, not because they have to, not because they’re trying to, because they can’t help it, because they don’t think about it or notice it. i haven’t felt at ease like this in a very long time. and then we went camping. and there are moments that i have now, brief ones that are gone before i have a chance to capture them, that i can’t even be bothered to explain. because i don’t fucking have to.