Monday, October 5, 2009

Night Light.

I like it when I'm happy, but people seem to like me more when I am sad. As though my happiness is an accursed falsehood. That's not the real you, I've had people say. Times when I'm smiling, laughing, dancing - being in Love. Time spent in the Light.

"If I'm not me - then who the Hell am I?"

In fairness, I have an over enthusiastic approach to joy. But I mean - it's a release for me. It's laughing at all the Hell that has been in order to believe in tomorrow. And make no mistake, I believe in tomorrow. As little and old and sad as I seem when the tears come, when the Yesterdays creep back, when the Cunts get in. The one thing no one but myself has ever been able to take from me, is my belief in Tomorrow. The Day of Recovery. We Can Do This. Let's Be Lonely Together.
And tomorrow for me isn't Success, so much, as Peace.
Just Peace.

I let two people take my peace.

They stared in my eyes and held my hands and promised me Love and Friendship and Understanding, and then they chose their own route, knowing full well what it would mean to me. And if it wasn't for A Real Boy Best and a Real Girl Best, then I may never have found a way out. I may still be in that park, in the dark, a shiver felt by those who noticed that this corner of the Earth was a little colder, pick up pace here, hold each other tighter, move toward the street lamp glow, keep that place in mind though the story will fade with time - as will the'd think...No. Yes. Maybe.

I've got you, kid. You'll be okay. A Life for a Life.

My Peace is not in the hands of others.
Don't think that, Matty.
Just be wary of letting things in.


In The End, Change came, a forgiving and blessed wind, and it brought such...well, it brought new things. That's what it brought. Just, new things. And sure, it's a jerk thing to Hope, that you can fight Change, but that's never what I've set out to do. I've always just Believed. Believed what I saw in small moments, quiet hearts, the gaps between the notes, the light in your eyes, the person from my dreams, the one who
the one who
the one who liked Me, laughed with me, was proud of me, my Heart, my Soul, and didn't take a stick to it and beat the Hell out of it, didn't Hate it for being happy, didn't need to assert some sort of control over the Youth in my heart. I don't know. I am fighting the squinty eyed hurt demons, but they are clever and justified and being Forgiving and BIG is not always so easy when you have nothing but shock and dumbstruck surprise.
You know this already. I don't want to bang on about it.
I just haven't had a chance to sit, quietly, on my own, and try to explain it without sending myself insane, or crying, or pretending to forget or all the things you do when The Hurt comes. And I thought to write it down, in preparation for When The Hurt Leaves. And maybe some people need other people to make that happen. Who am I to judge. I need my friends, this is a Grand Truth. But what I truly need, is Myself. Real me. Quiet me. Alone me.
And now
Now there are two lamps sighing red light in the Living Room. And Molina is crackling on vinyl. And there is tea not wine. And an Apple Pie. And there is a white cat purring beside me. And there is a bath and book after book after book. And there is wonderfully, happily, Cheshire Cat grinningly, the  feeling that this is truly Home.

And there is Tomorrow.
There is always Tomorrow.

And Tomorrow is mine.

And Yours,

of course.

And if I keep my eyes forward, and do not get distracted by the Tides, the Stars, the Silver Glow - if I do that, one foot, two foot, red foot, blue foot, forward -


in the Hallways of Wonder
Down the steps of Defeat
you never know what Tomorrow

will drop at your feet.

Enjoy your peace, friends.

As I do mine.

(and let's never mention it again x)

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