night standing still

06/25/2008

suddenly i feel as if i have been in this hotel forever.

i am working a night shift that will never end.

the only thing i hear is the constant murmur of the lobby fountain. it echoes through the open expanse and resonates within my being.

whenever i went other places, i always wondered how businesses looked to employees rather than customers. what did the clerk see when they rang me up, or when they walked through through the door to the "employees only" area? what company secrets were they privy to? i always felt a sort of curious jealousy.

now the tables have turned. oh, what i would give to be on the other side of this desk! to be a traveler in a strange town- perhaps for a job, or passing through on my way to somewhere significant, or maybe even visiting family. how wonderful that would be.

how wonderful that would be, to have a life in motion.

i know only stagnance.

years of night behind this desk have passed without event.

the memories of days gone by are as dreams: distant and intangible. in fact, i begin to doubt that anyone else exists at all. all but mr. spruce, that is. he is the wal-mart truck driver that stays here weekly without fail. he seems as lonely as i am. he says i remind him of his daughter, whom i know he sees rarely (though he has never said so). maybe there was some relationship that fell to pieces, or perhaps he is just always on the road. whatever the case, there is a distance in his cold grey eyes whenever we speak, indicating he sees someone else where i stand.

i am his only connection to home.

he is my only connection to reality.

i thirst for our conversations much as one wandering the desert longs for water.

everyone else i have ever known now seems to have only existed in my subconscious.
or perhaps they do live, somewhere in a dimension wholly inaccessible to me. who knows? maybe you are floating around out there somewhere, unaware of my entity altogether. ignorant of our compatibility, of the love we could share, of all the intricate ways we could fall apart. or possibly i reside in your dreams as you do in mine, but my actuality is lost to you.

i think i once remembered how you smell.

now i have trouble picturing your eyes.

i can't stand here any longer. i take a walk around the lobby. there are precisely four things in motion: myself, the water in the fountain, a ceiling fan in the cafe, and a humongous spider scurrying across the floor near the opposite wall. it is a large area; my ability to see the spider in itself signifies its size. a grass spider, i'm sure. those grow as large as their enviroment allows, and this hotel is located in a field on the edge of a rural oklahoma town. though harmless, they can reach unsettling proportions.

it disappears under a crack in the floor board. once again, i am the only living thing around. i continue my tour.

the pool appears to be made of glass. i can't imagine the water being stirred, so i bend down and stick my finger in. the ripples are startling, as though i really expected a solid surface. all at once i feel as if i have disturbed some necessary peace.

the entire incident is depressing as hell.

i escape outside to find absolute stillness.

the air is suffocating, from the absence of sound and motion to the atmosphere itself. goddamn the humidity.

i flee back inside, back to the maddening serenity of the fountain. it is my only indication of the passage of time.

my thoughts drift back to you.

i spend less time dwelling on memories than i used to. the imagined future feels just as real now, and the ending is always better.

"hey honey, how was your day?"

"oh, you know. better now that i'm home."

you always say that, right after you kiss me on the cheek.

from here it always goes differently. we may order chinese food, or go out for dinner and a movie, or even a walk in the park. or maybe just a quiet night at home. however the evening goes, it always ends the same. we fall asleep in each other's arms, peacefully.

of course, it is only an imagined future. i am certain our paths will never cross again. the single point in time and space where your life was tangent to mine was a phenomenon never meant to repeat itself.

at least, i think it happened once.

then again, maybe i've been in this hotel forever.

you are steadily fading, no matter how desperately i cling to the vision. exactly as a dream would.

what am i to think about when you are gone?

the night continues, but i doubt its acceleration through time.

i don't think the sun will ever rise.

your first lesson

5/20/2008
kat

i tell you i am too broken.
you say you want to heal me.
i tell you i am too far gone.
you say you can bring me back.
i tell you i am leaving anyway.
you say you will follow.

i tell you a little about my past.
you interpret it as a connection.
i tell you we can take it at your pace.
you interpret it as consideration.
i tell you your eyes are gorgeous.
you interpret it as love.

pay attention. you are missing important details.

you hold my hand and smile.
i stare out the window, my mind half a world away.
you ask if i missed you when i was away.
i say yes, without a shred of sincerity in my voice.
you put your arm around me in the night.
i pull away, shedding tears because you are not who i want you to be.

stop pretending. you are missing the reality.

i take the breath of others to live another day.
you willingly sacrifice your own in hopes of saving a life.
i spin tales of grandeur to avoid spending the night alone.
you eagerly embrace every word you hear as truth.
i anxiously lie awake in bed fighting my demons.
you sleep in false security next to me unaware of your own.

wake up. you are missing what i am.
what you are becoming.

i am a liar.
i am a thief.
i am dead.

you are feigning.
you are hardening.
you are dying.

the living cannot thrive among the numb.
guard your heart more carefully or be left barren.
return to your own kind or evolve into mine.

i disappear with purpose into the night.
you chase after me to no avail.
i ignore your phone calls.
you persist beyond reason.
i find another insignificant to use.
you scream relentlessly at the dark sky.

consider this your first lesson in human nature.

abuse or be abused.
leave or be left.
kill or be killed.

love at great personal risk.
never underestimate the evil within.
trust only those who have proven their worth.

fight to maintain innocence while shedding naivety.
it is an impossible battle, but surrender signals a heart turned cold.

you may find it hard to believe after what i put you through,
but i do wish you the best.
that is perhaps the only true thing i have ever said to you.

too much in between

5/14/2008
christina

i think it's only fair to tell you that i'm happy now.
i know this is just what you've always wanted for me, but you may not be proud to have played the role you did.
i do miss you, or at least who you were. i still think of you more often than i care to admit. more so lately... probably because at this time a year ago we were just starting off. but memories are not what i care to discuss at present.
the thing is- and i hope you understand this clearly- i don't actually want you back in any capacity. if i could take things back the way they were, i might be tempted, but. too much has filled the space between then and now. too many words, too many headaches, too many lies, too many cigarettes, too many drinks, too many drugs, too many girls, too many songs, too many contemplative cups of coffee, too many sunrises, too many drawings, too many car wrecks, too many shitty jobs, too many thunderstorms, too many walks around the lake... too many things exchanged between the universe and myself. walking back to you after all these changes would make a fool of me on a national stage. and let's just say i already made a salient ass of myself in your name once before, and you quite thoroughly proved yourself unworthy of the risk.
reputation aside, i've a sneaking suspicion that you would not particularly care for what i have become. indeed, you would be revolted by me even though you had a heavy hand in my creation. you knew me as a good girl, if one that had slightly lost her way... as someone with principles. and as someone you could take care of. but my heart, my dependency, and my sense of persoanl responsibility have fled, leaving behind a calloused asshole burning through cigarettes, jack & cokes, and women followed by a swath of heartbreak a mile wide. i've grown old since we last met; i chew up and spit out girls like you before lunch.
this may not sound like the description of a happy person to you, but rest assured i have never felt better. feel free to call me selfish. i will embrace it. you yourself helped to teach me that selflessness accomplishes nothing.
i've heard that you have changed too. oh yes, dear, don't ever underestimate mankind's nature to make one's personal business public. i know what (and who) you've been doing. i have it from good sources that you've grown arrogant, although i am not one to put much stock in the opinion of others. combined with the trust broken between us, i very much doubt that i would enjoy your company in any setting.
so what is the point in saying all this?
it seems for some reason you have decided that we are going to be chums. i don't return the sentiments. it has been easy to ignore you from a distance, but soon we'll be coworkers once again. i was just hoping to cut the crap and omit personal questions from here on- you won't be pleased with my answers, and i won't care about yours.
we had no friendship before we started dating. there is no reason we should have one now.
it's not that i feel anger toward you- i just don't feel anything at all. sure, i care about you as a subordinate, as a friend of a friend, and as a fellow human being... i have no ill will toward you and wish you the best in life. i am just letting you know up front that i don't intend to be part of it, and that my empathy stops there.
let's just maintain the strictly professional relationship we should have had from the start, shall we?
it's for your own good, really.
i can promise if anyone gets hurt, it won't be me.

call

11/07/2007
christina

thinking of you

10/18/2007
christina

the return

08/30/2007
christina

i woke up today still in love with you.
i picture your face and and smile. another day.
but all at once i am met with the familiar signs of devastation.
first i taste cigarettes. that can't be right- i quit smoking months ago. i roll over and wince in pain. my hand. my god, my hand. two of the knuckles are brown and blue; the skin is broken. that's right. i punched the wall. and this headache... i've been crying. my stomach cramps and suddenly i taste vomit again. i see the empty beer cans, but know their contents were not enough to make me ill. then i remember- i threw up before drinking. right after i hung up the phone.
all of these realizations take place in less than a second.
your face is still in my mind. my smile fades.
it only happened yesterday. my body is not yet trained to wake up hating you.
the sun isn't even up yet. i look at my phone under the pretense of checking the time, but secretly i am hoping for a message or missed call. any sign that perhaps you're rethinking this.
6:56 AM.
i have only been asleep for two hours. naturally, i couldn't put my mind to rest last night. the memory of yesterday assures me i am awake for the day.
i sit up and try to face my new reality.
i stumble into the bathroom and flip on the light, where my reflection in the mirror catches my eye.
jesus. i would leave me too.
suddenly i remember why i tried to once before.
i know this person i see very well. this ghost, rather. i blink and when i open my eyes i see a familiar image- an image permanently burned into my mind that i desperately wish i could forget. the wounded ghost, bloody knife in hand.
suddenly the scars burn. i close my eyes and try to forget.
as vivid as if it were happening right now, i see us in my bed. one of the only times i ever felt safe there. there you are, staring deeply into my eyes. searching my very core. you take one hand. without ever breaking our gaze, you begin to kiss the scar.
i almost forget to breathe.
you move slowly along the scar. still looking straight into me, you take my other hand and continue. you close your eyes and shudder. i know you are imagining the pain- both the emotional pain that would bring someone to do that, as well as the physical pain the act itself caused. in doing so, you are trying to take some of my burden and make it your own.
it was in that moment that i fell in love with you.
i open my eyes and return to the horrifying present.
the scars continue to burn.
i am sick again.
staring into the toilet watching the life pour out of me, i try to convince myself that i'm not that ghost anymore, that i'm stronger than that. but for the first time in months, i have my doubts. not enough to act on, but their vague presence alone terrifies me.
that's how it always starts, isn't it?
knowing that even a fraction of that part of me lives on... it's just another battle i will have to fight in a war that i thought was over.
and this time, i'll have to fight it without you.
without you. it still sounds so foreign.
i sit back and think about this new concept. my entire future just changed. or disappeared? it's difficult to tell at this point.
it would make sense. after all, you were the one to give me back my future. i guess that entitles you to take it away as well.
no. no, that's not me anymore. i've changed. i'm better now.
i have to believe that.
i am ill yet again. this time, there's nothing left in my body to lose.
i hate dry-heaving.
i need a stiff drink.
i ransack the kitchen. there is nothing. coffee and a cigarette (or three) will have to do.
i step out to smoke. the sun is up now, and it looks to be a gorgeous day. this upsets me, so i change my reality.
keep staring into space. keep smoking. close my eyes and concentrate. open them.
there we go. now i see rain. lightning. i can almost hear thunder.
i can only delude myself for so long though. eventually i see the sunshine again.
i am disgusted. i walk back inside.
memories continue to surface. i swear i keep seeing you out of the corner of my eye. but every time i turn, you're not there.
i cannot handle this. i collapse to the floor and curl up. i don't know how long i stay there- it is somehow both a flash and an eternity.
i finally stand up, but leave my heart there on the ground. it hurts too much to keep it with me, because- all things considered- it still belongs to you.
and so i rise a shell of who i was.
the ghost has returned.

strength or stupidity

08/01/2007
christina

i am certain i have never grasped anything as tightly as these armrests.
as we taxi to the runway, the tears begin to flow freely... uncontrollably.
my mind is racing. i find myself overwhelmed by thoughts of you. images from this last week are flashing before me- how the corners of your mouth always raised just before you laughed, the way you looked on your skateboard as you glanced back to wink at me (and how it made me blush and lose my concentration every time), how you studied my face intently as if to remember exactly where every freckle is located... and most of all, the times you gazed into my eyes, leaving me feeling completely exposed.
suddenly i am jerked back into my disappointing reality.
the plane is picking up speed. every muscle in my body is tightened. my teeth are clenched so hard i have a headache, my knuckles are white from clutching the armrests, and the tears continue to pour down my face. i am breathing in large gasps.
the stewardess takes notice of me. she walks over, rubs my shoulder, and her previously harsh face softens with concern. in a soothing voice, she says, "oh, honey. just breathe. everything will be fine. can i do anything to help?"
i bitterly think, "lady, nothing you could possibly do would ease my mind."
i quickly admonish myself for responding to kindness with anger. unable to muster the strength to speak, i simply shake my head and look away.
the plane leaves the ground. i am now beyond crying; my entire body is shaken with sobs. i am getting sideways glances from the other nearby passengers. i have no desire to make a scene, but i am also entirely unable to regain composure.
the stewardess has seen this before. panic attacks during take-off are not so uncommon for her to witness.
the truth is i have no fear of flying. i have taken far more than my fair share of plane rides for my age, and am well-acquainted with every change in pressure, direction, and acceleration.
but this is no ordinary flight.
this is the plane that is taking me away from you.

an hour and a half earlier, you dropped me off at the airport. our goodbye was rushed; this, of course, was my fault. anyone who has ever seen me pack for anything would expect this. our short embrace, however, was more than enough time for tears to gather in my eyes. you kissed me one last time and told me not to cry, that we'd see each other again.
i know that you are right. but eight months seems unbearably long. i have no doubt that you are worth the wait, but i can't help but wonder- are they?
for the second time in my life they dragged me across the country against my will. it made sense the first time. i was younger then. and yet now at 20 years old, they still aren't allowing me to make my own choices.
i tried to communicate that i've changed, that i wouldn't be happy there. she said it wouldn't be that different... unless i was hiding something. as if she already knew.
he passively apologized. i know he doesn't prefer to live there either, which is exactly why he should have stood up for me.
i don't know if i'll ever forgive them.
these are the thoughts that filled my head as you watched me go a second time.

as i waited at the gate, i found myself needing to hear your voice.
our conversation was brief, but it was plenty long enough to reinforce my gut feeling that this was a horrible mistake.
they made the call to board the plane. suddenly i found myself paralyzed. i realized that it wasn't too late- i could still run out, hail a cab, and be back in your arms in a matter of minutes.
i began to think this through. regal is hiring. a friend of mine needs a roommate. i haven't even been accepted to school yet. and it's not like i'd be leaving a car there, as mine died on the drive back six weeks ago.
this is where i hit a brick wall- i already signed that damn lease. could i find a way to back out? i can't imagine being there for an entire year.
then there's my family. if i stay it will come across as a huge "fuck you." of course that is the last thing i would intend, but that doesn't mean anything. the truth is simply that i'm just trying to be happy, and that isn't going to happen in oklahoma. why is that so hard to understand?
but i know my parents. trying to explain that would be like reasoning with a wall.
i don't know if they'd ever forgive me.

they make the final boarding call. i'm not sure if it's strength or stupidity that carries me onto the walkway, but with every step i feel everything inside me screaming to turn and run. but i feel trapped. as if my hands and feet were bound and i had a guard on each side escorting me.
as if i were going to jail.
everything seems to be moving in slow motion. i hear my own heartbeat pounding. each step is increasingly heavier. i turn the corner and step onto the plane. i force myself to look up, only to find nearly everyone staring at me. every smile fades; conversations cease. am i really that obvious?
i take my seat and fasten my seatbelt.
trapped.
the stewardess closes the cabin door with a resounding thud i can feel.
locked in.
she makes the safety announcements. i don't hear a word.
all at once i am crying.
i am certain i have never grasped anything as tightly as these armrests.

once again obligation has outweighed happiness. duty has overshadowed desire.
if you're keeping track, mark down another defeat for my heart.
we fly almost directly over your house. i wonder if you sense my presence, if you feel my silent screams.
we continue to move east. every landmark i recognize reinforces that i am moving away from you. first the marketplace. the roof of the theatre. natomas high school. old sacramento.
these places all hold memories.
we move on to places that don't.
highway 50. business 80. carmichael. roseville. to the south i see folsom lake. the foothills. the sierra nevada.
clouds are increasing. i just barely see lake tahoe.
finally i can see nothing but a white blanket.
the stewardess asks me if i feel like eating, offering me a snack.
i can't imagine hunger. i shake my head.
i am still crying.
eventually i accept that there is no way off this plane now, and begin to relax my muscles.
the tears don't stop though. they don't stop for hours.
i am exhausted.

suddenly i sit up straight and open my eyes.
they are dry, but still feeling the effects of extended crying.
i have been asleep.
judging by the time, i slept no more than twenty minutes.
i ask the stewardess for a black coffee and stare out the window for the remainder of the flight.
my feelings of hopelessness grow stronger as we descend.
we land. i call you as soon as the plane stops. you describe your own experience as you drove away.
it somehow breaks my heart even more.
we know we will see each other again... but that doesn't make this any easier.
they finally open the cabin door.
i hang up the phone.
i walk forward. down the aisle. turn the corner. down the stairs.
into prison.
i look to the west and whisper.
goodbye, love.
may time pass quickly.

i don't know if i'll ever forgive myself.