I actually had a very clear thought upon waking this morning.
If I keep my eyes closed, I can pretend I’m not here.
The bed feels like my bed. My real bed. My 4 years ago bed. The only one I have ever bought brand new.
The pillows do not. I will amend this.
I reached to the wrong part of the fridge for milk for my coffee this morning, and that is when it struck me where I am.
Yesterday felt like a weird dream wrapped in some déjà vu.
How did I get here?
Enough of me was still here to make my old gypsy bedroom into command center for this mission.
Weigh Station, Captain’s log, star date, who fucking knows time is fucky in this place of no logic.
It is peaceful and I missed some of my things.
How could I have left that here when I bolted in the dark of winter?
Because I meant to come back, tie up loose ends. Deal with this or that.
Doesn’t make the first 24 hours any less strange.
I can see my Ku’an Yin tapestry from my mojo momo mama in the mirror. I did leave some magic here. Quite a bit I think. More than I realized.
I scrubbed and cleaned and squirreled things away yesterday until I was exhausted enough to sleep. And it still wasn’t enough. The body was willing, but my brain had to run through a thousand ‘what ifs’.
First Breath After a Coma by Explosions in the Sky is playing.
Apropos as fuuuuuuck.
Enough of me was left here that I feel like I was in a coma for a while, and I had the most beautiful dreams. Then I woke up, and the house is dirty, but it’s still here. I am different from the lives I did or didn’t live in my sleep. And I am negotiating what that means. I miss my dream life so very much.
The whiskey bottle is still in the kitchen. I want to take it and build an altar like Frieda says, but the candles all burned down in my absence and I am 13 days from new candles and better pillows. I keep catching it out of the corner of my eye when I stand at the sink. I haven’t touched it yet, and I haven’t cried yet.
I didn’t bring enough shoes for the weather, but I found ones I thought were lost forever.
When I left to come here the second time, I decorated Mandabear’s house with the things I left behind. Now I go there and feel home. This feels like that. She sometimes catches me looking wistfully at some thing that she has kept and asks if I want it, like an elephant or a cutting from a plant. I do. I need to reclaim pieces of me I have left everywhere I have been.
Brian says I can have anything I want. But he really likes that lamp. We both love lamp.
I need to come back to center. But Yeats says the center does not hold. Things fall apart. I am things.
3rd time better hold some charm because I don’t think I can do this again.
I am calling all of my power back to me and taking it with me this time.
I didn’t really announce my arrival. No point to it, I am not really here for the next 13 days.
Try not to move, it’s just your ghost passing through. Tori Amos.
I had concerns regarding running into a few people and better to not be ambushed really.
The rest of this feels like I went to get cigarettes last year and forgot to come back, plus I quit smoking so…where was I and why did I go?
For someone who deeply and truly believes my presence is inconsequential and who is currently trying to figure out my own semi permanence and trying to stop appearing so. I am really reactionary.
I ran scenarios in my head about, what is it going to look and feel like if I run into _______.
Would it be worse to be loved, ignored or yelled at by someone I have history with?
The answer is ignored.
At least if there is an action I can summon and equal and mayhap opposite reaction.
But for there to be nothing would hurt. I must have been through that before, but I can’t remember, and I think on a long enough timeline they all come back.
The opposite of love is indifference. Lumineers
And in the 13th hour, I got my answer. 2:42am
Is there a tracking system in my vagina that I am unaware of? Like how do they know?
He says he didn’t know I was here. He says he isn’t here. I believe one of those things.
We spoke civilly. Of course there was a call of booty. I declined.
Would have been the perfect moment to use that line from Weeds, “you made your bed, go fuck in it.”
But I didn’t. There is no animosity here.
I said I didn’t plan on getting laid while I was here, and I was going to stick to my plan.
I didn’t like how we left things. I am glad I have one less unknown to be scared of.