Meridian

The things that become cliches are the things that are true, and expected, and that's why they're cliche -- you take them for granted and when they're gone they rend your heart. You can't control anyone else's choices and those choices don't even have to necessarily make sense. She could bash her brain in lead three lambs to slaughter lead them to your doorstep steal your life and your breath and still she is the one who will be invited to accompany you to the hospital gift shop. Like a fire in the distance, I can see but I can't help. 

It'll never be like that again, and you avoid the thought, you gnash your teeth and you absolutely don't think about what it'll be like when that thought is a resolute structure made of concrete. Because, because because because. It's at its worst, I think, on nights like tonight. The nights that carry that ineffable electric current that comes with autumn, the promise that comes with the harvest and how do you not take stock and self reflect? A night just like tonight. She would come over at midnight and the speaker that Nana burned with her cigarette would talk about Dresden and maybe that's why I have so many dreams about that house around the corner. How will you make your relationship different? Can you. Screaming your name as you walk away down the hall and eighty years old alone, like starting college by yourself but without the promise of a future that you dictate. I never thought I'd see a parallel between the story of you and I, yet here we are. In the dream there is always a pool in the backyard that I'm excited about but that needs an almost overwhelming amount of work. The water is murky and there are things swimming in it that would search for my neck with seeking tentacles would work their way under my toenails, the stuff of nightmares. My task, in the dream, is to set about their removal. To make the water clear again. I find solace in knowing that there are people in the house who, like me, don't belong to it, but that will help. A single minded purpose. Before I wake up I see blue water in my mind and beautiful, languorous summer days. A dream within a dream. How fitting that the pool is the central figure, and the ones who are there to help me deal with it.

We just do what we can with what we're given. Sometimes it works out for our best, sometimes it doesn't. In both cases, life goes on. You find a way to be OK with it. In the body, when one sense or ability weakens or dies, others get stronger to compensate. I think the same is true of relationships. There has been lamenting this summer, and a gnashing of teeth. But, there has also been celebration and kinship and appreciation and fun. I'm sure it's true of both camps. You choose your comfort, and your normal. I go to sleep looking forward to each morning, knowing that I've chosen right for myself. I just hope that you feel the same, and that if you don't, that you see a way out -- a way to the calm, clear water that's possible with some honest evaluation and some work.