Right now I have a cold. A cold being a minor nuisance on top of a big pile of many things. In between the cracks of folded garments, hairpins, childhood toys, photographs, old scents, laughter, and fearful things there is a vivid glow of fortitude. I am happy to see that in a dark place I can see myself still shine.
Having been back from my trip I find a new facet to my character; one of valor and honesty. Upon my return I have encountered visions of grandeur coupled with unceasing hardship.
Of my trials, and hindrances there are a few I would not like to mention. Yet this entry is not designed to welcome sympathy so I may only disclose the few that should be most daunting.
-My father broke his leg- his best friend and his son moved in to help him, since then the house has smelled like nothing but weed and alcohol from morning through to night. Everyone pops painkillers. His friend and I had stayed up drinking and smoking weed and cigarettes until dawn a few times. Most of the time he ends up in sentimental tears about his sorrowed past or his many years in a penitentiary.
-I am the only working person at home.
-I have no car, yet my father firmly owns two.
-My friends are showing their true colors- which is a very good and a very bad thing, either way it’s a benefit to me.
-Two weeks after my return I received a stressed and teary call from my mother about how we needed to come up with $3,000+ within 24 hours before the house was to be foreclosed on (for the 4th-ish time in 5 years). It was resolved hours before the deadline.
-My mother has moved out. I gave my car to my mother.
I feel that I have become worthy of my own respects; one of the hardest things I have sought to do. What is important is that I am not sad, or angry (maybe a little annoyed at this cold), or depressed. At worst I am pensive. This is all helping me grow as an individual human being. I am jubilant and am in the process of creating a rich life’s work. I feel like I am in a big auditorium celebrating myself and the things I’ve gone through this past month, this past summer, this past spring, these long domestically-unsettled and volatile 5 years, this past decade, and prior. I have always been so hard on myself. Today I feel that I am in a big auditorium celebrating the pride I now hold to myself.
But there is no one when I walk to my car after work at night, or when I wake up, or to eat with, or to sleep with.
My friends are somewhere else, my mother is moved out, my father is with the woman that he cheated on my mother with, my father’s friend is drunk at a friends’ and his young vulnerable son is at school waiting to come home to a furious, self-centered father. That’s fine.
Tonight I feel like I hold an award with no one else to admire it.
Even after the proceedings I’d still like to return home and sit on a bed to feel a feminine touch. If above food, shelter, and clothing I’m graced by that luxury of something soft.
{Listen.}
