"somewhere other than inside the out there." -- part eighteen.
he held me in that way, that handmade quilt sort of way, that tried and true traditions sort of way. and he refused to let me go until he had tried with every bit of heart he had to soak up everything that i felt was wrong with me. and on a night like tonight, i thank something higher for gracing the good earth with camel lights and friends like mine, but beyond, i wish and yearn for him to hold me like that again, with every bit of heart he has.
somethings, they rip you. and now, more than ever, i'm ready to be someone else.
when i was growing up, i was the youngest and the only girl. often, i felt as though my opinion, although not ignored in any way ever, was not needed. this caused a rather irritating trait to carry over into my adult years (if we're calling them that), and one that drove boy up a wall or two in our time. if i was speaking for an inordinately long period of time, i frequently came to think i was babbling insignificant and would apologize profusely for taking up more time than allotted. he would shut me up right away with, "stop apologizing. you're talking good talk." he was the first to even attempt to break me of the habit.
i miss that. that feeling that i could talk for as long as i wanted to without the haunting notion that i was not being listened to or that the other person was just waiting for their turn to talk.
but tonight, i sat with friends and riled myself into what's known commonly as a "tizzy."
see, i've been in this state for the past month, trying desperately to sink into myself and the whisky bottle. i lost that thing that made me want to be a better person, and i'm trying to find it again, causing all of the little armies in my head to scream battle cries that they had thought they'd forgotten. i'm tearing myself to pieces over here, and for nothing better than myself.
some of my only hope is that he used to hold me like that.
but i go on.
anyway, so my twenty first birthday, i couldn't even drink because i was on antibiotics from the procedure. and for thanksgiving, we took the train down to rhode island, picked up my car, and drove to kentucky.
i was going to meet his mother for the first time ever.
i was scared but in that way which he encouraged by telling me that she never liked any girl he brought home.
we got there at about nine on the eve of thanksgiving. he played this horrible trick on his mom, telling her that we wouldn't be in until the next day while on my cell phone and pulling into the driveway. i could hear her shrieking over the phone, and then she heard us in the driveway.
this beautiful, small sprite of a woman bounded over to him, calling him a jerk and hugging him. i, quietly, observed and got our bags out of the trunk until he introduced us. the radio in my car was still on, and i could slightly hear alkaline trio screaming about a "big fat fucking bone to pick" through the open trunk. i smiled, and the tape flipped sides to appleseed cast. he leaned in and grabbed the keys, so that all that was playing was the suburban street light over the driveway.
i walked in, behind him (trying to blend and remain undiscovered behind his slight stature), to this wealth of people swarming in the kitchen. they all took turns hugging him, and there were kids running around us, a baby in a high chair, and some dogs. it was warm and buzzing. finally, he made a mass introduction, and i did a little wave from over his shoulder, kind of frightened.
we fell asleep, tightly wound in each other, in his little sister's bed, with the sweetest quiet that i had known in a long time.
thanksgiving day, his mom tried to fry the turkey, but it wasn't working. we ate late, but good.
the next night, boy went out with some ex-girlfriend or current friend or something, and i fell asleep into a tiny catnap.
his mom sat me down and brought out the photo albums. i am a photograph junky. i can look at pictures for hours upon hours, even ones i've seen countless times. she took me through his childhood and told me stories about a smaller boy. she even gave me two to keep, and i still stare at them often. i can't get enough of those eyes.
i had this love for a boy, and then, i fell completely in love with his family, every nuance and relationship. i just sat and watched them all, confused and unable to stop with my ridiculous smile. they were brilliant and insane, and i adored them.
his mom, gorgeous and loving, is still one of profound impact on my life. she is a savior to me, strong and shining. one of the few heroes that i have truly known in my life.
and so we gave thanks.
and tonight, there is no holiday, and there are no words. but i give thanks, because someone up there decided that i deserved times and friends and things like these.
