Fixated

I’m not sure how to respond,
     but for some reason
               I can’t let it go
                       drop it
                       move on
                       forget it.

                       It resonates.

And I wonder
   if there is something
       bigger
       behind it all
             that is trying to      peek through.

Do I say thank you
        for the
           thank you?
Am I overthinking
        all of this?

(I think) I might be making myself
                   neurotic
     going over all the options
                              possibilities
                              alternatives.

I am fixated.

But
    if
      there is a reason
                   purpose
                   meaning
          for it not going away,
                 I don’t want to just ignore it.
                 I want to find a way to work
                                            through it.

Water

Boiling water to wash dishes, then
     pouring it out of a measuring cup
          to not waste any of it
               really makes you aware of
                     how
                     much
                     water
                  it takes to wash even the littlest things,
                                   like thin silverware.

A water main broke near us
      and our water got shut off
                  for
                  three
                  days.

It was like camping
     but not.

After only the first few hours,
     we started to realize
          how much we take that water
                              for granted.

Every time we went to the bathroom,
     we had to remind ourselves not to
                     automatically flush the toilet,
                          unless we had to.
   Flushing is supposed to be a good habit, right?
                     Usually.
              But it takes over a gallon of water
                                        for
                                        each
                                        flush.
               I know, because we had to fill up jugs at a friend’s house
                    and dump the water in the back of
                                        every toilet
                                        every time we flushed.

Washing our hands after
          is always automatic too,
                   but we couldn’t – without water.
We are told to wash our hands
                     after
                     everything – especially during flu season,
                            to reduce or
                                prevent sickness
                                           germs
                                           contamination.
So we were very thankful for Purell,
     even though it's slimy
          and leaves a funky smell.
                        But it was something.

Forget the possibility of a shower,
      because that was completely out of the question.

And then there were meals.
     When making anything to eat,
               I had no idea how often I rinse
                                                   wash my hands
                                                        between pretty much
                                                        everything.
     Normally, that is a good practice –
               to avoid cross-contamination.
          But it quickly became
                     impossible
                          without water.

Every
  single
  time I went to rinse
                    wash my hands
                    brush my teeth
                    flush the toilet
                    clean a cup or
                              bowl or
                              spoon,
                                 I couldn’t help but think
                                      of places in other countries,
                                      and probably even here,
                                             that don’t have clean, running water
                                                that we just expect,
                                                as if it should be there
                                                           all
                                                           the
                                                           time.

We should be able to expect it.
   All of us.
Yet, for some reason,
             not everyone gets to have that.

And as I poured the water
     out of the measuring cup,
          conserving as much as I could,
               I saw how quickly
                              it
                              disappeared
                    and how much of it
                              we
                              all
                              need.

Tattoo

One day I love purple,
         the next, blue
               then green.

I used to love anything
          with a smiley face on it.
I used to insatiably collect every sticker
          that could possibly exist.
I used to play Indigo Girls
          and Tracy Chapman
                    incessantly.
I used to be obsessed with florescent
                    everything.

This is why I could never get a tattoo.

I have always disliked/hated
                    lasagna
                    chocolate
                    snakes
                    politics.
          So (I think) it’s probably safe to say
                    at this point
                           those things aren’t going to change.

I’m not
     always
          indecisive.

Some decisions are easy
                         simple
                         instant.

But some decisions have
               too many directions
               too many what ifs.

It may look like I’m      dragging      my      feet,
               but I’m not.
     I’m weighing decisions:
                       cost vs. benefit
                       trend vs. long-term.

I don’t know how I will feel
                 what I will think
                          tomorrow.

I know
     with a lot of decisions,
          it is okay
               to change my mind
                          later.
But it doesn’t always work that way.

And of course Jeff tells me
     I overthink things –
          because evidently, that’s what I do.

But what could I actually get a tattoo of
          that I would still enjoy
                                 love
                                 find significant
                                       one
                                       two
                                       five
                                       nine
                                       twelve years from now?

Disorder

Sometimes I think
              I see people –
                   what they want to be seen
                        and what they may not intend to.
              I can empathize
                     identify
                          or at least
                     slightly understand
                               in some small way.

Other times,
     I wonder if I have some mental disorder
               because I am so completely socially awkward.
     I may react poorly
          or completely wrong to something,
              thinking 5 steps ahead
                    or 10 behind
              and I don’t actually end up making
                        any sense.

Or I can’t translate what’s in my head
     into words
          or even make
                    actual
                    words
              come out of my mouth.
     I just stumble over them,
          and have to keep
             starting over
                    like I never actually learned to talk.

Even if I did understand or
                 completely get
                         what the person said
                                               thought
                                               meant,
               I can’t actually communicate that
                    effectively
                         and we have to start over anyway.

(Re)play

The memories resonate
                   play in my head again
                                    and again.

And they replay,
     as the emotions
                   force      their way
                                      to the surface.
     They don’t always make it through
          (I don’t think)
                   but they are still there.
                                  Right there.
                                  Close.

I also play and
       replay alternates and
                continuations and
                eventual possibilities
                       that haven't happened – yet.

                But they exist.

They aren’t real, but they could happen.
                           They could eventually occur.
                           They could be.

Maybe they are unresolved issues
     I need to figure out
               how to deal with.
Or maybe they are emotions
     that are trying to create a story
           that I might      eventually      be able to
                             discover
                    if I would or
                         could
                             acknowledge them.

Gears

Sometimes it seems like you are spaghetti-ing
                                           swirling
                                           talking in circles
                                           reaching for a point.

But I have come to know you enough that
     (I think) that’s not actually what’s happening.

You know where you’re going.
You know why you started where you did.
You know how to get from one point to the other.

You have the dots
          clearly mapped out
               from one place
                         to
                     another.

You just also externally process as you relate everything.
You fill in the details.
You don’t say A+B=C.
You fill in the backstory
        and the surroundings
        and your feelings.
You are a storyteller.

At first
     I wasn’t sure how to receive it.
But now
     I get it.

All the stuff I don’t say,
               all the specifics,
               all the details,
               all the feelings –
     they are still there;
          I still think them.
          I still think through how to go from one dot
                            to the next.
          I just don’t say it out loud.

You let people in
          to the process
          to the inner-workings
          to the gears as they move.
And I appreciate you for it.

Become

I spend a lot of time studying people.

I focus on a person
  read them
  and attempt to feel
       what they might feel
  try to see the world
       the way they might
  learn their mannerisms
  mimic them
  become them
           in order to understand them.

It can be exhausting
     to conjure up
          someone else’s feelings
               and I often reach my capacity for feeling
                                those emotions myself.
               The mere imagination of them
                                sucks the life
                                    out of me.

And I still can never be sure
          I’m accurate.

I can never guarantee
     understanding the person
          will improve the relationship between us
                or dissever it
                           because I’m           so far off
                                               or
                                        I got too close.

But

I think
     in the context
          it was okay
                   useful
                   constructive.
But…
     There is always a but, right?

I
always
question
everything.

Was it really okay?
     Did I share – too much?
     Did I come apart – too much?
     Should I have even gone there?

When I put that vulnerability out there,
     sometimes usually I feel like
         I need to figure out a way to
                   pull it back
                   reign it in
                   lessen the intensity of it.

I feel that this time too.
But
   at the same time
       I also feel like
            we finally made some progress.
If I hadn’t let go a bit,
      even if it was (mostly) involuntary,
   if what I felt
      hadn’t shown on my face
                  and in my voice,
          it probably wouldn’t have been received –
              at least not in the same way.

We are so
           completely
           different
               that sometimes,
                     it’s hard to even relate.
This
same
conversation
     never went anywhere
              before.

But this time,
   I was acknowledged.
     Days later,
          what I said
                 was remembered,
                 and it mattered.

It seems like
     the emotions registered –
          to someone who is generally
                     as adverse or
                        awkward with feelings
                           as I am.

Maybe
   that means
     we aren’t as entirely opposite
             as I thought.

Essential

I am not good
     at scheduling out time
                    for rest.

It feels inefficient
        wasteful
        extravagant even.

There are too many things that have to be done, and never enough time to accomplish them.

I wish I could find the time to do both:
     do enough
          and
     rest enough.

This time I am forced
          to rest.
     Sickness crammed it down my throat
                without my consent.

It’s needed
   necessary
   essential.

But in this context,
     it doesn’t feel very
               restful.

Edgar

When death follows
                  haunts
                  chases after you,
     leaving no escape,
          how can you not be tortured
                by the doom of fate?

How could you just brush it off
                           discount it
                           outrun it,
                           have it be enough?
        Could you –
             even if you wanted to?

How could you not
     see it in every periphery
     hear it in each reverie
     smell it sneaking up behind you
     taste it in your sustenance
     feel its darkness
               always in your presence?

With fear and resolve,
     you refrain from reaching out
          to the shadows that surround,
               where you know
                         it waits for you
                              in every thought
                              in every doubt.

Yet what else can you do
     but seek to follow
               where it goes
     try to stay one step ahead
               hoping to understand
                       and know?

If not that,
     you must let go,
          allow yourself
                    to be nevermore,
                              succumb
                    to its impending clutches,
                         leaving fate to decide
                              the eternal score.