Thinking about Zach, even in passing or in reference, leaves a sort of overwhelming feeling of hopelessness deep inside my stomach. The sort of "deep inside" that seems to tickle your spine and extend to the outside of your flesh, through your back. It sweeps up and covers the sky, and, apparently, is heavy enough to stop the wind.
"never thought that I could find you so hollow"
In reflecting on the years since (is his departure my new "Year One"? that question is going to have to be left for a much longer/larger debate.), I think a lot about the decisions I've made in re: the future- or lack of decisions, what have you. I think about the year I "lost" weeping for him (I remember most the nights slumped against the compost bin out at the Awful Shark, which I know couldn't have been too numerous, yet seem the most evocative- perhaps it was because I was purposely hiding my strange drinking/crying binges from my roommates? Or was it because I intentionally curled close to a large pile of decaying nature, this being the period of time in which we all thought he was dead and lost? Again, probably a topic for further exploration at a different time).
"But this cup of wine
All salt and brine makes me sleepy"
I wonder a lot, if decisions would have made differently if he was around, and, in conclusion, decided its much like the time when I asked my mom if she regreted having kids (me included), and she said "its just a different road you go down, and, once this thing (kids) has happened to you, you just can't even imagine wanting to know what the other road is even like" (I'm taking liberty and paraphrasing a much longer conversation). And I can't imagine the other road, not even fantastically. This is the road. There is no other.
Talked with a friend tonight about the sucker punch chest ache your recent exes leave with you- how everything-every.single.thing.- reminds you of them, is tainted and touched by them- and how it never feels like it will ever go away or evolve or be something you can escape from. I counseled "time", which I know, I KNOW, feels like a cop out, but is the truth. This is how the "Z" word came up- its been years now (so hard to believe, makes me gasp in awe)- YEARS since the "happening" happened, and I still have dreams/nightmares, I still see "him" (doubles) on the street almost weekly if not daily, I still have huge questions about the where/why/when, and I STILL (see above) feel this huge tidal pull towards hopelessness at the mere mention of his name.
"Were you sleepless, tearing at the air?
Was the water everywhere?
Were you fretful, to wade into the room?
I'd been wanting to hear from you"
But! Above and beyond and BUT!
I now think about the wonderful things. I think about why I fell in love with Big Z in the first place- that initial pull, that strange magnetism- I think about why I care so much that he's gone. Why I CARE.
I think too about all that is wonderful, and awesome, and DONT STOP BELIEVIN' about my life now, and how I do have things and secret plans and wonderful people to hold on to, how drowning isn't an option anymore, and how, even when sucker-punched and surprised by the sadness he is still able to evoke, how most days aren't spent in sadness anymore, not like they used to be, and how, I do love him still, and, if I really LOVE HIM, and not some fucked up, selfishly skewed image of (him + me), or (him with me), or him (just exactly how I want him to be)- well, then, I should be happy for him now, like I would hope he is happy for me- because he is doing what he needs to be doing to be him, and be happy, and healthy, and whole. And if I love him, deeplymadlytruly, I want that which will make him the bestest.
Because we have to love them all for who they are, and not just who they are with us.
"A gentle torture to watch it all recede"
And the ability to say that, now, after all this time, these tears, and all this shit, is cause for happiness in and of itself.
"Hand it over
Hand it over
You're weary, lay him down
You did your time so thank you very much"
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"Because we have to love them all for who they are, and not just who they are with us."
It's like when you're hungry, you know to eat. When you're tired, you know to sleep. When you're sad and lonely, what do you do? Distractions, talk, find closeness, but these things aren't a resolution like the others. Perhaps why it's coping and not curing.
You know what's silly? I've gotten a ton of good advice and information from wikipedia. Coping, love and the 'thought terminating cliche'.
Who would have thought an encyclopedia would have so much good information about life's problems without necessarily downplaying them as purely scientific discussions about chemicals.
Mom wrote me about how there's still a part of her that loves my father. While I'm not going to imply that my relationship with Leah was any bit as serious as my parents, I know I'll always have love for that girl. I'm glad for that, but the coping is hard.
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