a soc post about a recent ask that leads to questions i’d like not to lose sleep over. what makes sense may be only by chance but if you’re like me, you don’t believe in chance.
i believe to have burned a bridge so the ask makes no sense. to me. for this reason alone i’m prone to lose sleep. then again, he’s come back before, so maybe something of me is comfortable habit rather than hidden hostility as i’ve imagined yet too i’m aware they can cohabitate and present as acceptance.
it brings to mind a friend that looked for and reached out to my son after several years, and though he seemed happy when he shared it with me, it was something else. i asked how i could bring them together and he said he wasn’t interested, that too much time had passed and it hit me without expression in the gut. i’ve no words to explain to a child that the difference between too much and too little time is no more than a hairline fracture on a protected and unassuming bone.
so much time has passed. nearly four years. enough time to remember that experience doesn’t forget.
what can i offer you now that i couldn’t offer you then? dissociative though life demands, i want to know who i can be for you today that you didn’t believe i could be for you yesterday. how did i feel in the room with your actions and do i want to feel it again?
i’m not the normal hire. i will get in their bones but will my presence be fortifying or destructive? because if it isn’t the former, if it wasn’t then i’ll consider he’s addicted to dis’ease – but the masks on these hospital hands have been shed for skin thinner than freshly forming ice with a touch meant only to add peace that in health melts for pressure.
i think too highly of myself to imagine that more than thirty seconds of consideration went into the call but i learned the importance of that from the caller.
so unexpected was this ask that for the first time i asked for you by name and when it touched my lips i wanted to cry because the truth doesn’t allow me to pretend i mean anything more than a cool drink on a sweltering day. the weather will change and in the cold they will disappear, but as i search for blankets i will be challenged not to take nature personally, not mine, not theirs and not yours.
if it was you calling i’d have no need of this fruitless pondering for i’d say yes to every unseen hairline holding you together, in protection and out. i’m not entirely daft and know it’s just a dream that sometimes gets me through the day; visions of who we are allowed to be what ‘we’ could be.
over the course of solitude’s years i’ve become a professional dreamer hesitant to be awakened by another’s false reality of overcast projections. he doesn’t know how silly he is attempting to convince me i’m a straw and that there’s something nourishing he can give me to drink.
still – i can’t separate the ask from you so it’s yes i’m struggling to free from my heart but knowing myself i will still arrive hopeful – not believing in choices but always hopeful.
perhaps being ‘chosen’ last has its merits. i know my answer but like everything it matters little in the grand scheme of things. all is a cog and all is a wheel and regardless we roll.