Last night i lay in a fold-out bed in someone else's house, his alone, his happy to be alone house. My own alone
stretched through my legs' reach, my arms lying alongside my body, across my scalp to the back of my head. I wondered what his sleeping form the floor above felt like just as i wondered how the cats felt in their bodies, how the spring would feel here. I felt as if i could let some restriction
go and i would wash my insides with sadness
, maybe even cry. Perhaps that would do good. But i searched and nowhere found the tension
that could be holding such emotion
in ... everywhere in the landscape seemed calm, relaxed, smooth, like the ocean fading into they grey sky, incapable of hiding such pressure as i imagined. Eventually i fell asleep, not knowing where i would sleep tonight.
On the bus, i think idly of Ryan whom i've left and my wandering mind maps his face on Alex's. Both have a gorgeous benign arrogance and no need of me but offered me all kinds of shelter. I was in love with Alex at the time (though not with Ryan) and he accepted it gracefully but did not encourage or reciprocate. Instead he (they) drew me on to thoughts that others do not. They are separate from, rarer than, the men who are attracted to me, or those friends i can casually speak to, or call on the phone, now and then or everyday. Perhaps (with Willa) i can imagine that they are a lineage of strength and grace who have given me courage in consecutive phases of this life. Maybe this is all too grand. We're only people. I'm like them in some ways. Maybe i have been that figure for others.
I feel on my way. I feel like a snake, having just stripped a skin, glossy and tender - a bit timid, a bit proud, a bit exposed.