i lay down to breathe. catch my spinning head, curb the nausea a little longer. i’ve been laid up in bed for 6 days now. i haven’t felt this outside of myself in months. forced isolation. forced self reflection. denial of my need to socialize- to connect. i find yr hands on me. at first, comforting and soothing. but i am naked, after all. and you are a human. a man. yr fingers find their way to places (lately so) out of reach. rhythmic circles turn deep, i feel fingers through my backbones. this is the first time in days my head starts spinning in another direction. counter, to my clockwise. and you don’t stop. these meds make it harder for me to climax. a challenge? yr fingers find me lost, find me warm, find me wet. my body responds well to yr motion. gentle and insistent. a coax to my illness. i find my cheeks wet. a pleasure spreads throughout my torso, my thighs- my mind. after days and days of virus, of impairment. unable to even read, write. i feel you put a calm into me. directly into my core. my head falls back, the familiar shake. you press on for another, and succeed. the dance of lovers and beautiful realizations; i can cry during sex, again.

so next things next, there's the sex.
you really like to think that this makes up so much of who you already are and would like to continue to hold that on some(?) sort of pedestal, at least with a bit of reverence because come on now, you might be a slut but yr not a whore.  but this is important, especially to who you are. so you don't "sleep around" because, yr not really sure how to exactly. you just flow. fluidity has always come as a predicate to sexual energy. especially with the back history and violence and all that messy shit that still holds yr vagina hostage. it's been four years now. you are worlds and orgasms apart from that eighteen year old curled up crying in christopher's car. she wasn't whole at all. beside the point- i know. but it's been weighing on my mind again. this month always does that to me. the birthday, the 'anniversary' the body, the health, the home. it's all haunting. and yeah, there is so much empowerment behind these new eyes. raised brows, strong mind. i assure you, i AM doing alright. really, i'm fine. i just get to thinking and then i get to writing and really, i just want to feel flesh upon mine. but not just anyone's flesh, i'm in no position to be desperate. i'm in a high point of mind. but that passion was nice. the electricity between two humans that knew the ins and outs of one another.
it's tough to think that you might find that again.
even tougher to think that you might not.

you wonder when you get past the point of feeling completely and helplessly apathetic when out with someone else. it's not even the point of replacement (one knows that, that sort of trial is frivolous and unwarranted. not to mention impossible.) you might think that a distraction would make it easier, but instead it's more of a reminder. only sadder and in the most human way possible.
this is redundant. i've been saying it for weeks. i'm not even trying. but people keep pushing. pressing up against you- friends, acquaintances, complete and utter strangers. boys at shows. girls in the bathroom stall. people online. people online. people online. and you realize that despite being hard; how or why do you want to meet people? i'm not looking for love. i know exactly where it is. it's on a bathroom wall, and it might stay there. because really, i'm sick of having this daily(hourly. momentary.) struggle with myself to just push those memories off. i wish garlic cloves worked with ghosts the way they supposedly ward off the undead. maybe if i just shove enough up my cunt they'll ward away yr thoughts and a yeast infection simultaneously. silly me, i would think that. i do think like that. in the fantasy realm and the hard cold facts of vaginal health. it's a wonder anyone takes me seriously- i'm past the point of doing so.
the even numbers always find me harder. even in mid-fifties weather, a fresh pair of backseamed stockings on, even with three cups of coffee in my system, i find today a challenge.
i just have to continue to remind myself of why i am here and why i need to be here. why this isn't only temporary, this is a whole new path entirely. this is a new way of introducing myself to myself.
because really, let's be honest- that's the only person worth being in love with, right?

it is getting easier. i feared it wouldn't. countless hectic thoughts serrated my mind night after night the first few weeks. those brief moments of worry, "will i ever find someone that feels good again?" and you might try, and fail. because no, you really might not. not in that very way, at least. soulmate number one holds his pose. or is it i that holds him, after all? oh rhetorical questioning. you will do me in, i swear..
i sit at the curved table now, to the side of the one we once sat at. sometimes, when it is sunny enough i will sit there. pint of coffee in hand, writing little sad notes to myself that remind me to stay a little somber. if not, a short stint in the bathroom will do just that. it's like the hansel and gretel of breadcrumb leaving, but instead you don't find yr way home. not to that home.
i'm really not so lost anymore. i say that and actually believe it. the spring season nearing, i find more grounding. yr still around. people remind me when i forget. i hear who yr out with, how she looked like me, how they thought she was me, how she wasn't like me at all- how she never could be me. people think they are doing me favors. i don't scoff. but it does make my stomach drop. it probably will for weeks. more likely, years. i tend to hold those things in for far too long a time. "you carry people with you on the soles of yr traveling shoes"
i do hold some silly hope under lock and key. if nothing else, for a future friendship. maybe that seems unlikely, but i will let time and trial prove that to me.
i've been feeling twenty-two. i hold birthdays like new years resolutions- setting myself to another standard of living because i AM another year older and that must mean something more significant, correct? probably not, but it's been keeping my head on.
downed another coffee, in another dress, at another cafe.
this is just the beginning of a world of words that need to be put down...