Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace, there is nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
King Henry, Act III scene I Henry V
I have closed up the wall with the English dead. They were stinking up the place, I went heavy on the bricks and mortar.
I “feel nothing for the departed, not enough time or not enough lyme.
To leave them where no one knows.”
Drag the Lake
To the Crows
(mind you, I would never feed something so nasty to the crows.)
This is why I adore you, Young Un. Speaks my anger so eloquently.
Where were we? Ah yes…
I am a wood tiger.
So is it time to summon up the blood?
Fuck, I am already doing it wrong. These are instructions for war, not love.
I know the difference now.
Now is decidedly better. I don’t want to fight anymore.
But I am still doing things wrong…but wrong for whom.
If I am to be loved for myself I must indeed BE myself.
In the time called before I most certainly did not love me. Every relationship was always war. A war between me feeling unlovable but wanting to be loved spilling out and making bedrooms into battlegrounds. Blood and carnage.
There was a king who ruled in absentia here for many years. He has abdicated his throne and I am holding him to it. Gently, I said I don’t want to fight anymore and I meant it.
I had no choice but to rule on my own.
When in Rome. Eat, drink, fuck, and wear bedsheets in interesting ways. Also philosophize.
Someone asked me last night if I had ever withheld sex to get something I wanted. He said I looked like he just fed me a lemon, the way my face twisted as I spit out the words ‘Fuck No’. The closest I ever came was when I said to Khal Drogo “If I make you wait I have a chance of you seeing me differently than the others.” And 5 minutes later my pants were off, so there is that then.
“You have suffered enough
and warred with yourself.
It is time that you won.”
Glen Hansard
What do I win?
Young Un was the last boy I asked to be my boyfriend. I saw him once after that in 2014, and then again last Saturday.
Didn’t go well then and we are just friends now. I almost want to call him for advice.
I am scared. I don’t know how to do this.
The way I have done things makes backwards look logical.
So now what?
“Open your hand again,
and expect to find mine,
close your eyes again,
and trust my lips will meet yours,
anticipate love again
and you will find it in me”
Leo Christopher
Alone is not the most terrifying word in the English language.
For me? Right now? ‘Again’ is striking terror in my heart.
I have no idea what I am doing. Again.
All I know is that I am peering into the abyss and the monster staring back is beautiful.
This is the breach and I want to walk in.
I am floating along the event horizon and I know where it goes.
Do I let myself go and just fall?
Consideration, like an angel, came (Henry V, Act I scene I)
I don’t have a choice.
Back to the beginning
When I was in grade 9 my homeroom was Drama.
Contemplate that for a minute. I just did and I am smiling to myself. Looking like a crazy person at a Denny’s, unable to write this down fast enough on the back of a placemat.
High School Sweetheart was in said class. He still remembers me crying one morning during a trust exercise.
You know, the one where you cross your arms, close your eyes and fall.
I knew everyone that was meant to catch him contemplated letting him fall and I was crying in advance. Dark matter (all matter in fact) changes its behavior when observed. I think my tears snapped them out of it. 13 year old mind reading empath in a Tuesday morning drama class.
I was excused from the exercise because the crying and fear was assumed my own. I hadn’t dared yell out ‘don’t drop him’. I didn’t love myself enough to trust my voice or visions. Methinks the lady doth protest too much (Act III, Scene II Hamlet), or exactly enough to keep him safe, then anyways.
Truth be told, I wanted nothing more to fall and be caught. Especially if HSSH was to be among the hands to catch me.
He was the aforementioned King of Sarahland. His abdication stands.
Knights came riding, banners flying. I went out to meet them but didn’t let them in.
I opened the gates to John the Conqueror.
He cannot technically overthrow when I invited him in. So far no mess, no changes to the landscape, no blood or carnage.
It is a strange sensation to meet someone with whom all is quiet. I cannot read intent, and I am really alright with that. I have no idea what is inside the gift wrapped boxes. But I can tell you what it isn’t, dead cats and severed heads. These surprises are pleasant. I have been waiting for this.
Someone said ‘it’s alright to fall, just bring a parachute’. I love her dearly, but that isn’t how this works.
Skinny dipping on a warm summer night is the only way to go. Unencumbered.
I almost drowned 3 times as a child. Yet water is where I feel at home, safe and quiet and free.
This is how I feel right now. Aware of the possibility of dying, unable to stay out of the water, wanting more, walking in naked knowing it might mean drowning.
