What past? All the past, my friend, all the past. In short, I've realized that the only thing ever holding me to Saint Mike's has been my friends. Without the friends I used as anchors, this place has a habit of sucking. This new perspective has benefits and negative effects. If I hadn't made these friends, I wouldn't have been held here as long as I was, which would've deprived me of the amazing professors I've met and been taught by, and the shaping moments where I've endured, failed, triumphed, and learned. Losing these friends, I've also branched out... a lot. The number of people I know and hang out with has expanded tremendously and these new people have just as much to offer, if not more, than those with whom I used to circle. On the negative side, losing these friends on a campus that seems to get smaller by the day means awkward interactions at least four days a week. It also means I feel sometimes like I've wasted my time the past two years; though I know that's not true, it's easy to get sucked into these feelings. My confidence in myself has been called into question; I no longer trust in the same way and slightly botched social interactions expand to night- or even week-ending boulders of shame.
I've also had time to consider what made the friendships I had friendships. I ask myself, what did you like about this person? Why were you close? What was the point of keeping them in your life? These questions are risky because they tip quickly and wholeheartedly in one direction or another. In realizing that these people weren't worthy of being grafted to my life, I also think about how I wish I was closer to the people I've become closer to. These, in combination with each other, make me question whether or not there is the possibility of longevity in these friendships, in any friendship. Obviously plenty of people have close friends from college, but maybe I'm just not one of those people, which is terrifying to me; it makes me think there is no foundational connection to be had, no connective tissue between any of us. The positive view of this is that I just haven't met these people yet, that outside the confines of this campus, the people who I've been waiting for since starting college are also waiting. But we generally find something resembling friendship anywhere, so I don't know if a new geographic location will be particularly transformative. Generally, I land somewhere in the middle. I've put more emotional weight on Christine and Katy and Lexi than I ever have since coming to college; friends I've had, who've already been tested, still support me and I've cultivated a new appreciation for them because of how long they've put up with me; this terminology (i.e. "put up with me") is particularly important as it's something not a lot of people seem to be able to do.
My life fell apart in November and I'm still putting it back together. It's been almost an entire semester and I'm still processing the hurt. If this were a movie, I'd tell you that I feel better every day, but that's not true. Some days are conquerable through hard work, other days I fall down as soon as I get out of bed, and an increasing number of days let me know that it's probably (maybe) going to be moderately okay and fine eventually.
***
I've written so many poems! I don't have time to post them ever and right now I'm just procrastinating but here are poems yay!
“Dished”
Pasta pot water boils,
bubbles kiss the air.
As I lean to pour in
(the whole box)
you tuck hair behind my ear,
protecting it from flame.
Turn it off, empty it in the drain.
Lament lost linguini, and
put wheaty tears through the colander.
Chicken Parmesan, served:
red, and white, and
cold, on the table.
you tuck hair behind my ear,
protecting it from flame.
Turn it off, empty it in the drain.
Lament lost linguini, and
put wheaty tears through the colander.
Chicken Parmesan, served:
red, and white, and
cold, on the table.
"Panic”
Right, so, you know I’ve got a lot to do.
Right, but I’ll let you know when I
care.
No, no. Please don’t make this a big to-do.
Oh no! Too late, seems like you’re out of
air.
Okay, but everything’s shaking; you’ve gotta stop.
Okay, but also, I could not.
Ha!Ha! Maybe we shouldn’t do a calmforanxious swap!
Haha! But your stress, to me, is aught!
Yes, but, does everything have to spin?
Yes! And it can go faster!
Please, my selfhood is thin.
Pa-lease! On this brain’s walls, three brands
of doubt I’ll plaster!
A writhing film settles over everything perceivable;
the me running circles in my head: incessantly unabatable.
“Confab”
Fear of (circle one) falling/failure/flop:
you sat and watched me pick at my soda label.
Tête-à-tête: a
lover’s embrace in a coffee shop.
Wary of your compliments, I will not be the crow to your
Aesop.
I’m quite aware of loving me: a task of which you may never
be able.
Fear of (circle one)
falling/failure/flop.
Attempting to determine if one and the other is a fop,
forces us to stare instead at the table.
Tête-à-tête: a
lover’s embrace in a coffee shop.
Feel your eyes on me as I nervously hunt a cough drop
and the longer we sit here, the more we grow stabile.
Fear of (circle one)
falling/failure/flop.
To purposefully touching your hand, I will never cop.
An unequal metaphor, which I reject, dictates you be the
house to my gable.
Tête-à-tête: a
lover’s embrace in a coffee shop.
Eventually taking part in a conversation worthy of eavesdrop;
falling as I stand, you grab my hand to steady, make stable.
Fear of (circle one)
falling/failure/flop.
Tête-à-tête: a
lover’s embrace in a coffee shop.
***
***
"We'll say that,
We'll say we're okay"
