Dear Tim and Bethany

[deartimandbethany]

Dear Tim

I’m mostly all moved in now. I still have boxes around my room that I feel too much of something to really unpack them. 

I’m feeling a bit of anxiety about life in general. It’s kind of that sort of drone or buzz that’s just below my skin or right beneath my sternum. And I’m just waiting for things to fall in place, which I’m sure they will well enough, soon enough. And this is just the way life is for me, just in general. It’s the fact of imbalanced brain chemistry. Everything is a dull buzz of anxiety. And what I do is balance one aspect of my life against another, understand that my life is pretty even, not about to drop off and sink. It’s just right now I have nothing to grab onto and ground me, to attach my Self to, but that will come.

It rained this morning, and as I walked to a job interview in Lincoln Square, it was still leaving a few drops on my shirt, and I worried that the small dark spots would be unprofessional, and I worried that the humid air would stop my hair from drying by the time I arrived. But all the same, the air smelled delicious--dirty and damp, and tinged with exhaust smoke, and I worked to remind myself that I live here. I live here. I moved through my self and worked through to be walking to a job interview in my new city. 

I have this thing where I’m enamored with my own reflection, but only when it’s in windows, when you can see the room behind, and the world outside, and just a glimpse of me, textured with all the reflections and perceptions. On the train, I get to see myself shaded with the houses and streets as they pass us by and whatever lipstick i’m wearing that day is a splash of color against these backdrops. 

[deartimandbethany]

Dear Bethany

When I was little, my mom would take me to a playground. I don’t really remember where it is, what equipment it had, or how it was set up. But I do remember there was a nature walk behind it, through a forest and a bridge over a creek. Picturesque right? I think I only went there once. It was with Mom’s friend’s kids, who were around my age. I couldn’t tell you what either of them looked like, but the idyllic scene of the three of us splashing around in the creek while our moms did whatever they do is as clear as day.

It’s funny. I have a general idea of where that park is, but I don’t want to go there. I like having the scene half remembered. The gaps make it feel more real somehow. Going back now would ruin the magic. Because I know it isn’t really the perfect pastoral scene I remember, but that’s ok. That doesn’t really matter. The slide will always be massive, the forest an endless vibrant green, and the creek bubbling along merrily. I like it that way.

[deartimandbethany]

Dear Tim

Behind my parents’ house there’s a small pond that is hidden behind a hill and a small wood. The farmers who lived here before us dug it themselves, but there is a spring from the woods that feeds into the pond. It’s still, and  algae gathers around it’s edges, especially where the wind is blocked by the reeds and cattails. At the end of July, the bullfrogs start mating, and they call for each other across the pond. It’s a loud, grinding and deep sound. I parked my car on the top of the hill tonight and as I walked to the house I could hear the bullfrogs calling.

On my drive, I was thinking about selective memory, and the things I choose not to remember. I don’t really remember much of being sick, or the pain. Really, it’s just the crisis points, the bits where I was in the hospital, waiting for the morphine to kick in. Or my ENT sticking a scalpel into my mouth. But I don’t really remember the everyday fact of the pain, the hunger, the constant state of tired. When I would talk to my therapist about the Ex, for a long time he tried to get me to talk about the difficult parts, the ones that I knew weren’t working, but I’d carefully avoid it. And, to be fair, I remember very little about it. But when I listen to certain songs and I get this feeling in my gut that just isn’t right, despite being past almost all of it.

But mostly I’m just pissed about losing The Black Keys and the Avett Brothers.