Petal

I have to be more patient with myself. For so long all I wanted was to be a WRITER. It's been so long since I felt that stumble over announcing what I do. When I first moved here I switched off between introductions of, "I want to be a" vs. "I am a." I knew I was selling myself short with the first and worried I sounded like a liar with the second. Now it's just the truth. There's nothing else I do.

I recounted a story to Puhg yesterday. It floats around. 2014, I think. Back when I taught an English 101 that ended at night. By the time we let out, the rest of the school would be empty. I'd lurch to the adjunct office and grade papers. The windowless room made the dark hit thicker when I finally caught the train.

My friend GChatted me. She said she was doing fine, but lost. "What's the point? What should I do with my life? I have nothing to care about." I couldn't relate at all. I had no pearls for her. Not one. Because I don't remember a single day before my dreams gripped me by the throat and never let go. Puhg says that makes me lucky. He referenced that episode of The Bear, which is one way to cope.

Is what I make inside or outside of me? I truly do not know. Am I a tree with branches or do I just drop acorns? My favorite tree is the one I'd climb with pink flowers. It worked all year for those couple days of bloom. If I didn't notice fast enough, the lawn was covered in brown petals.

"A love

unselfish,
unambitious,
impartial,
universal--
that loves only because it is Love"

Muffy reminds me via text what kind of love we are supposed to emanate.

There You Stayed 'Til Morning Came

You gave your life to Jesus Christ, and eased the people's pain after that.

Today I found out that a dear friend of mine's ex-boyfriend passed away. They have been broken up for a year, but they were still on amicable terms. In fact, at ACTF I saw a production of Once on This Island, and there was an actor who looked exactly like him! I e-mailed my friend to tell her how funny it was to see this ghost of boyfriend past singing and jumping about in poofy white pants. She was amused and told me he was actually in Thailand right now, so poofy pants were a real possibility!

I didn't love this guy. However, I did like him. I spent a good amount of time with the kid: a night at an Irish pub, a black and white film downtown, a kickball tournament--to name a few.

So, he was hiking with friends and veered away from the group and ended up dying in a waterfall. It is unfortunate? I guess that's a pretty good way to go. Also, this guy had been out of college for a few years now, and he was always a totally happy dude...except when it came to figuring out his career. He was smart and capable, but no working life seemed to appeal to him. At least not enough to get him pumped about it, and he was the kid of guy who wanted to be motivated about big choices.

But, now, it turns out, he really didn't have to worry. His number was up before he even got past the chill-out and travel lifestyle. In this case, to me, it actually does feel like "his time."

I've never been afraid of death. Just not a concern of mine. I guess because it seems like...yeah, if you die...you'll be dead...so why would you worry about that? I guess I don't believe in hell. If I did, maybe I'd fret more. But today while I was on my run, I felt especially unafraid of death.

A. (This has happened before) I saw right through it as a significant element to life.
B. I felt overwhelmed with this gaping idea, swallowing me whole: You've got a lot to do. And while I often don't know exactly what that IS, I've got some leads, and, apparently, I've got a lot to do.

'Til someone died on the waterslide, and you were not the same after that.