in light of all this..

in the face of disaperances, disasters, dust.

in the face of the large hole of "not knowing what" and the larger hole of "not knowing how" and the fucking immense, black, ever widening hole of "not being able to do anything, fucking anything at all but post pictures and promises and dig and fight and claw to the bottom of it and discover more maddening nothing at all you're able to do".

in the face of one going to the hospital months ago, not to wake up again, but waking up anyways.

in the face of new babies, and people you love being in love, and their weddings, their plans, their possibilities.

in the face of iowa, or portland, or anywhere at all, and building huge brick schoolhouse palace homes with goats and chickens and art and trees and homebrew and faith, and we all, all of us, all fucking summer long, the tide of reunion, we all came back to one another in it, in those schemes. after three fucking years, jamie, we sat in my tomato patch and battled weeds in the most epic way possible ("back back foul beast!"), and said yes to everything, to that ellusive, rough hewn future, all over again.

in the face of another heartbreak, of dark, deadening heartbreak, of another "never again", of another letter never read. and it was probably the one, the only fucking one, that should really, truely have been read.

in the face of all this, for those who said goodbye, or, more importantly, for those who just fucking left, or, most important of them all, those who stayed, and those who came back, and those who are new but feel older than the dirt and drama that ever came before,

there is too little for bullshit. too little space inbetween us, too little time. and we are drunk and dead and dying, and we are scared, and we are dancing, drifting, dreaming, plotting, goddamned unstopable. and we are fragile as fuck.

and i've got no brain for it anymore, no heart for it, damn near to not enough heart for anything left. there is no more tough skin (though, i really am beginning to doubt there ever was). i love you, i miss you, and i want nothing more than for every single one of you to know that.
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ahhh saccrine sentiment and shitty spelling in the light of possible impending doom. i know if no one else, you, zachary, will appreciate my consistent and impecable sense of stylistic fucking irony.

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i hate this.