It was like a weird teenage wonderland, pizza and something beautiful between us. Here we are, I guess. Here you are, I guess. It's refreshing.

I'm really overwhelmed with not talking about things, and that's important to deal with. This feels like a grown up issue I can't grasp fully, but the disappointment I felt this week has just been incredible. "Sometimes you do the right thing, but it isn't the right thing for another person." It was funny hearing that, like at the end of Wizard of Oz when Dorothy states what she's learned- a funny moment of absolute reflection, like a moment of this is what I was meant to learn. But nothing is changed because of it. It's frustrating to feel out of control.

I write this here because I'm not sure how to deal with it there.

"I will do these things inside your love
However fragile is how broken it becomes
If I don't tell you how I'm feeling it's because
I'm still learning, but I will learn to love

This is how we walk together, old and filled with holes
In these sweaters, scarves and fireworks between us holding hands
Inside a million stars together as we walk
And we sit on some old bench I touch your hand in this old park
Inside of you, inside us"

For you, I'll try.

It's actually amazing how disappointed I am. No, really. I'm amazed that I can even feel like this.

Today/night has not been the highlight of February.

No, but seriously...

Too Much to Remember

Something random I wrote, maybe the beginning to a story. Maybe the end. I don't know what it is. Written in October, inspired by crumbled mountains and the Gervais family driveway.

Xoxo, kg.

---

I watched her books disappear over weeks… the words bound shrinking just like those between us. I had done nothing wrong, she said. But I knew better. I knew that if I had done nothing wrong, she wouldn’t leave me, wouldn’t have already left me. Here we go.

Before I fall asleep, I can still feel her breathing down my neck, her softness bringing me to life when I least wanted it. I never took advantage of these kinds of things.

Is this not the greatest tragedy?

I didn’t mean to fall apart, of course. But it’s wedged between us, something like air but more beautiful, something like water but heavier. All I can feel is my heart breaking again and again and again and again and again here we go, I say instead: I still have our box. I can’t help it. I can’t throw her away. I can’t give her to goodwill or forget worn jeans or mermaid hair. I didn’t know how to keep her and so she was gone. If I believed in God, I would have prayed to Him. Who the hell knows, maybe I did. I can’t remember anything except trying not to cry, trying to hold myself away from her, when all I wanted was to feel the soft animal of her body falling against mine, make me somebody. She wasn't the only one, but she was the only one that matters. You would learn to hate me if you knew.

Nothing Even Matters

Not a legit music video or anything...

But. I'm so in love with how good this song is. Smooth. Reminds me of rainy days and feeling calm.

Today was wonderful.

There's a black cat sitting on the sill of wide open windows in my San Jose home. My hair is in my signature messy bun and it's my day off, nowhere to be. There's a group of kids outside ringing their bicycle bells (no, seriously.) and Jerry's guitar is singing to me. I finished my unicorn puzzle this morning. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. I feel wonderful.

It was a bizarre conversation between you and I, fumbling between business and curiosity, laughing and misery. I never know what to say to people when they ask me what I'm doing. I never know what I'm supposed to say when they ask what I've been up to. I'm always doing the same things. I brag about the little things because I don't have much else to say... a poem will be published and I don't know how to talk about it... I know it's significant but at the same time, it's not so much. But for me, it's something huge. Is that enough for me to talk about? Can I hold your attention with my small joys?

The truth is, what I'm up to is teaching myself to be happy.

I still laugh at all the wrong times. I'm not anxious anymore. I have enough money, always. I don't eat enough. I cry rarely. Something good is happening. I miss my sisters. I'm falling apart toward someone else, and it's beautiful. I don't have any cats. I don't know how to hold a conversation a lot of times because I've buried myself alive. I had a girl scout cookie for breakfast. My heart is full of something hopeful. The weather here is perfect every day... even when it rains.

I have changed. Not much, but I have. I want you to know that I answered the phone this time not to help you or give you some pointers or anything. I answered the phone because I prefer to say yes, because I think it's time. I know there is a sadness in all of this. But there's something valuable in old friends and old anything... maybe for you, the depths of me that destroyed us are all you know to look to when you need saving. Just an idea.

There's something about how good this day is that reminds me why all of our miseries happened. Heartbreak is productive. Launching forward, straight into sunlight.

But. Even when they are the same thing, you are not the same girl who saw those things the last time. Not necessarily. How do you want to deal with these same things? Do you want to deal with these same things? Are these same things worth all those things that are so very different?

Look at those patterns all you want.

But at the end of the day, what I remember is the way our eyes open at the same time on accident. And I remember we're people. That you're you. And that no matter how much I expect/want you to disappoint me, you want my radiance more than I want that hurt.

There's a first time for every thing.

Sometimes, when things look really different, but you have a feeling they might really be the same, look closer. They might just be the same. Over and over and over and over again.

this sucks.