“What was that sound on your ringtone?”
“Speck.”
Who knew that dog meant so much to him? His children are on their own. Perhaps the recording reminds him of a time when his house was full of life and love. What is this modern life? In the end we have but our families, small and dispersed.

Digging down

Digging up

Memories. Clear the fog

Back in the sun, illuminating modern molds of past objects

Pass by your old house, our old house, still feel that twinge

You never fought so hard

Here’s to new years and old memories

For the sake of auld lang syne.

I saw my own parents struggling with my own issues. I can’t speak to them about it, they no doubt know it somewhere in their minds. They have much farther to fall, though, than I did. When you get to the point where you’re almost searching for the negative aspects of a person’s personality, it’s time to escape. I still don’t have the courage to end something I know almost without a doubt is right, but she did. I doubt either of my parents can do it, and I can’t imagine how much the fall would hurt. My mom lunged for the champagne, my dad found the opposite nook of the house, escaping to the few souls he doesn’t mind. Seeing these things I know what happened is alright, that I need to find something else. Or that will be my future. And I can see the next horizon, but it may be a mirage. Side tracks?

Wait out the dread, it will pass just like last time…just like last time.

Disjointed, disconnected, just like this prose.

Disaster. We tried things I probably should have foreseen to be disastrous. But we tried them all the same. A few months later and we were already on the brink of death. And then things were better. For awhile things were good. Not as good, but good. I still had a longing to do other things, and you still had a tendency to make me feel guilty about them. But I’d do them some of the time, and you’d cry some of the time, and I’d feel terrible each time. So a few months went by and I felt maybe we should take a break. I slept at my house, you at yours. You cried (unbeknownst to myself) each night. One final night you decided enough was enough and wanted to talk about it. The next night I’d promised to sleep at yours again, but you couldn’t wait. I came over, and we talked for awhile, we cried for awhile. You asked what I wanted, and I responded “I want you to be my friend”. In actuality I meant this as I want things to go back to how they used to be, us being best friends and lovers and not wanting to be apart. But it read quite differently, it read as “it’s over”. And then I accepted this, as if my unconscious mind was really telling me that it was time to end it. Then I wrestled with my decision for a few days, and kept going back to “it’s over”, and felt relief at the finality of the whole ordeal. You would call every night or every other night wanting to hang out, and I’d oblige since I promised to be friends and to help you out through this tough time. I wasn’t doing either of us a favor. Most relationships have the post-breakup thing, ours was rather tame.

Then he came into the picture. As soon as you said you were happy I instantly became the opposite. You finally found comfort in misery, and I couldn’t be happy for you. My gut wrenched for a month, I felt the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. It makes no goddamned sense. I thought you’d always be there to ask to hang out, in case I was feeling lonely. When that was gone, I had no support any longer. I went though some stupid “relationships”. None with any kind of meaning or feeling, just physical sustenance. And now I feel good. I feel better and more secure with myself than before I met you. I have a good deal of good things ahead to experience, and all I really want now is to know that you are happy.

You have a tendency to focus on your boyfriends. I want you to know that you can be your own person and have your own activities apart from him.

Have a good life, keep in touch.

Love always

-Me

It’s easy to fall low

Walking behind in bleak winter air

Surrounding and pounding us

Are those your steps?

Which are mine?

Which are his? That bastard

This was my trail, now it’s been sullied

We were only a month or two away from summer

I faltered, now we’re found.

Though I still follow closely, he gains ever nearer

Maybe it’s all madness, maybe these steps are all my own

Maybe I’m walking in circles, having lost yours long ago

I now glance to the sides every other step searching for impressions

Maybe if I find your lost path I can make it out of this alive

It’s all so uncertain, I wish I had a clue, will you lead me to safety?

I should have stayed by your side, you knew right all along.

Now I’m walking in circles, following my own path nowhere

I keep having fleeting thoughts of terror at the way things are on a grand scale. We are just localized complexity in a sea of indifference. Both amazing and terrifying. And despite all this, people are still so cruel.

Distract me.