17.

 I am currently hosting my beautiful baby brother's 17th birthday party at my home.

Twelve 17 year old young adults sitting around my dining room table.

eating pizza. sour cream and cheddar ruffles. playing games. laughing hysterically. so innocent. so fun.

I am sitting in the other room, twice their age and admiring from afar, at the joy of being in high school. when everything feels concrete and a tornado at the same time. two days feels like two years to them. its so safe. I can't help but wish they could stay in this moment forever. 

 I wonder if this is what moms feel when their babies start to grow. i'm sure it is.

he was born February 14, 2007 and the very next day, I got my drivers license on my 16th birthday.

driving to the hospital in my white scion tc (what i believed was the coolest car of the mid 2000's might I add) to meet this beautiful new angel among us. raising him with my mother has also been concrete and a tornado at the same time. my heart divided the day he was born, he truly feels like mine at times. I left for college when he was two and a half, my blonde blue-eyed baby. but 15 years later, he now feels like my brother. so sure of himself. so deliciously flamboyant and confident. I knew these days would come eventually. but I can still close my eyes and see that bright blonde hair, those big blue eyes staring up at me, I will forever be his "Emi."

I have dreamt of this day.

I wonder when

I wonder when you began to hate me.

We were incandescent, immortal, invincible… Together we could have taken over the world. Or, at least, that’s what I always thought.  That’s what you always said. 

Until you didn’t anymore.

During those three years - the three years we were always flying too close to the sun - I watched as your eyes changed:

from fascination to admiration

from resignation to regret

Did my eyes mirror the same emotions? Did mine give me away as easily as yours did?

I remember the late nights we would spend together, drinking pink wine and watching old movies, our legs bare and tangled together under your comforter that smelled of dirt and lavender.  The bed was never made and the room reflected that.  It was a reflection of you, you told me.  A free-spirit, a creative soul. 

But to me it just always looked messy.

I guess the most important question is: 

when did I begin to hate you?

( this is not my work. just came across through a blog I follow. the words resonated and wanted to share the beauty and never forget. 7:13 p.m. august 1, 2020)

stopped time.

may this year of chaos remind us to be grateful and compassionate, always.
I find myself compelled to write - to let words and thoughts and feelings pour out of me like the rain pours everyday at 2:17 p.m. and then stops for the sun at 2:21.
we are stuck and scared, worried and anxious - and just, alone. together.
I haven't seen my 73 year old father because god forbid this virus goes one step near him. I won't have it. my job has just ceased. stopped. like time. which then compels me to think of the lives I have lived. how I will never live them, like I did, ever again. how can that be? is that just what life is? I have invisible strings attaching me to places that my heart breaks for. for times that I would never want to re-live. I always feel this way in the summer time. before I return to Tallahassee, which is in two more sleeps. how can I grow older and feel the same. how can a lump form so beautifully and meticulously and easy in my throat when I even start to think about a memory. of a time long gone. it's the smell of the air. the burn of a candle. I have been meditating, finally, for the first time ever. and it is making me feel thousands of things at once. like a flood. or a waterfall. life is simple now. but also more complicated than it ever has been. Jake's bar mitzvah is in a month. I feel like time has stopped.

like neighbors.

I fly in planes and wonder if the clouds know each other's names. Like neighbors.

I wonder if God or whoever is up there looked down and saw Earth as a board game. It fits too much like a perfect puzzle. 

I press my forehead to the plastic window like a child and swear I can breathe the air.

I always count down from 10 when we land because I remember my mother doing that and all I've ever wanted was to be like her. 

chemicals

There's something about the chill in the nighttime breeze as my foot steps on the pedal,

the alignment of the stars tell a story so much deeper than my own.

yet the ache in my bones longs to be released

my life is a plot, my days are the scenes

my senses are keen and everything seems infinite

i long for a boy who doesn't even know my last name has only one R and two L's

who doesn't know that the older i grow, the blacker my coffee gets

that my tastebuds must be an equal amount of sweet and salty

that my head is filled with imaginative ideas that even i cannot grasp

Cross legged.

I’m always going to be emotional and you’re always going to be logical. I am also ALWAYS going to order excessive amounts of cheese and sit cross legged at the table it hurts my hips otherwise, sometimes my nipples may show but that’s why I bought fake boobs to not wear bras and I ALWAYS try to cover them, yes I’m really going to eat that and I may be overreacting a bit but I love you and I’m not going to make our room FEMININE you fucking ass.

we can't be friends.

& i'm always thinking summertime with the bikes out.

Life is better than it has been in so many years. I sometimes feel like I don't know what to do with it. it scares me and gives me anxiety and I almost feel like I don't deserve it. a normalcy. a respect. a love that is LOVE. true and real and raw. the idea that my opinion matters. I am heard. understood. valued.

I am responsible. growing. being recognized. being challenged. reaching higher and higher. slowly rebuilding myself into a good, no, great person. not defined. not limited. not embarrassed and ashamed.

I bet you dream of what you could do.

I still cry over spilt milk. rarely. but still.

it's time to show you're worth it child.

not sure what else to say. an incense is lifting my spirits and Dermot kennedy is everything I have ever needed to listen to. I am sitting in my new apartment. so peaceful. so dark and dim. so me. life is good.