a quick note

Getting over yesterday, back in the old town.  Spires upon spires in an abandoned cityscape.  Like a bad dream, driven home in a hybrid Honda Fit.

Insurance claims and cyberstalkers, rocking out in the real world.  Nothing like a university at all.

I tell my mom that I give zero fucks, because I’m a millennial and that’s what we do.  Please don’t send me a passive aggressive gift this Easter, send me something I’d like to have, like Cryptonomicon.

A breakthrough with us.  Maybe there is hope in life.

 

A beautiful woman, finally.  Like an out of body experience.  The most beautiful person some stranger has ever seen.  What am I supposed to think?

When a man I don’t know tells me they love me?  Call BS loudly, and often.

I submit my dissertation soon, I’ll get a job I swear.  Learning to be happy, speaking to a kindred spirit.  About how there’s no plan.

 

going outside

A deliveryperson rang the bell at 7 am.  I was expecting them, but I rolled out of bed.

I signed the form and she was gone.  As I stepped outside, I couldn’t remember a more beautiful day.

 

I tiptoed down the step, down the walk, peered down the block and realized I’d worn two layers of clothing all year.  All spring, all summer.  But now I could feel the air on my skin.  I remembered how cool it could be in the morning, that it’s damp and smells like lawn.

I lost myself in this and rubbed my eye – a vague burning sensation from my undereye gel.

 

I had coffee on the step that morning.

 

red dress

Leia asked me to try on her ballroom dress the other day.  I’m sure it’s expensive, it feels expensive, and I kind of dive into it.

“Don’t stretch it!”

After figuring out how to maneuver the lining and where to put my arms, I heard myself ask her to zip up the side.  And we kind of stood there in front of the mirror.  Actually, we definitely stood there.

Me:  “Interesting.”

Leia:  “That’s amazing…”

I realized then, in that moment, in a red dress, that I could totally pass.

 

Shit.

 

Days ensued, joy and panic interspersed between hours and minutes.  Fear and longing and the stark, stark realization of how much this is going to hurt.

Then I seem to have wrestled this rushing sense of inevitability to the ground.  I can’t do this.

But the dress fit perfectly.  It was beautiful, I was beautiful, and now?  Now I’m completely lost in this undefined social space.  I know I’m a woman, but what does that mean?  I ask myself, “Can I pull this off?”  And I do, I have to, it just is.