The more time I spend in love the more I ache to crack a window to let the fresh air in. Days melt into each other. I melt into you... but when I put a record on and insist on wiping down every dusty surface in the room, you do it with me. You thank goodness I pulled up the blinds. I thank goodness for the space to make easy tough decisions.
I start school next week, I’m putting down the weed and the alcohol to shift focus into learning and it excites me. I’ve infantilized myself as a way to feel small; school to me, is a way to feel open again. Let me let go of everything I think I know and be open to newness. New ideas, new ways of seeing things. I’ve been smoking weed every day as a means of survival, that is surviving emotionally. I think part of me has been nervous about being sober again because sobriety kind of feels like meeting an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. A few months can feel like an eternity when looking back at oneself with sober eyes. Do I have the strength to see things as they are? To see myself? What If all I feel is shame? (To be honest, so far it’s been nothing but love)
These days have been magical, but also achingly mundane. I’ve reduced my hours at work for the winter to give my mental some breathing room, worn down from lack of sunlight. I try to see a friend at least twice or three times a week and I’ve concluded that time spent with those I love and who love me makes life worth living. In these moments I forget where my phone is and hold hugs a second too long on purpose, not knowing when the planets will align for us to see each other again.
Sharing a bed has been important to me this winter. Sleeping on my back. Touch. Holding and being held. I am overjoyed that things right now are perfect in the most imperfect way. I’m embarrassed that everything is so satisfying; I am coming to terms that things are not at all what I imagined they would be, and yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve found little bitty things to be weirdly thankful for, like stinky breath kisses in the morning, radical honesty (when he tells me to go brush my teeth), listening to an album front to back on vinyl, turning on the dishwasher only when its perfectly full, Mad Men, Baby (our cat). It’s all so special to me.
In 2024, I continue to move with intention. I’m sobering up for school, not buying new clothes, kissing, Latin dancing, studying, meditating, running around outside, laying face up to the sun, graduating, speaking my mind, learning, opening. I won’t run away from full having a full awareness of myself and my surroundings. I will face all that I can head-on and with resilience. I will love as much as I can. Now and forever.