I think I have hit my limit…

Two years, three or more failed friendships, countless tragedies, three quarters of an index finger, and 13,000 dollars in student loans. I try to fain the composure this situation demands, to crawl from this pit. I am having a very difficult time. I know that I am on the cusp of a collapse because I cannot make plans, keep plans, enjoy plans and so on. I know what needs to be done, but all I find myself thinking is r-u-n! A recent encounter with a stranger under the influence has made me more afraid than ever of men, of being alone in the dark, of substances that leave me to deal with the unguarded intentions of others. I am tired of the habits I see around me, the drinking, the smoking… I want to feel safe. I want to feel independent and strong but mostly I want to feel loved. These are common desires, common thoughts and I wonder if they seem as far fetched to others. I think I need to go away. I want to go back to my friends, I need familiarity. I wish we never would have come here, I wish the last three years were no more than a very bad dream.

the breath that carried us into being...

The window is streaming blue light, the slates of the blinds peeking in slight gaps when fully closed. Old windows with clumsy paint smear, have loose fittings for the eager breeze. It exhales in a ruffle of sheer crimson, embroidered by machine in vertical waves. They crest on the edge of something unshakable and fall back in tow. Iron for heat, painted white like the petals of a fragile flower and hard as something so beautiful must eventually become to survive. I watch from the bed, this dance, in the cool light, how silent we may seem. As now I am only eyes, I gaze to them from one side of my nose. Sapphire, cornflower, darkest blue, like something frozen, like something new. One brow lifts at the indecency of their exchange, it feels like laughter. The shadowed cast peers upon the page. Oh, this generic font. Coffee stain, tea tinted and well loved- old even when barely used. Too much sun will increase serotonin at the expense of your best suit. Telephone ringing, bad news calls around. If all my greatest fears weren’t so willing to abandon fiction, we might have made it through this all right. Give up on grammar, let go of precedence- the things we say last will out last the breath that carried them into being. This is true like so many other things.