cracked

I’ve been kind of without a home, but now I have one. At the same time a is going to spain for 2 months, and she’s become something of a home. Goodbye lovely! I almost went with her, but I decided to get on top of my credit card bill. 

My new apartment is the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived. The floors tilt in every direction. There are checkered tiles in the bathroom. There’s a crack in one of the windows. Classical music flows through. We have a big mirror, 2 chairs, and a stereo on top of a tv tray. I can see the whole city from my bus stop. 

I feel like I can finally breathe. I can read again. Maybe I can write again. We are testing this out.

The last few months have been day-to-day. I scraped by. The skin of my teeth wore thin. It was grim. A dungeon with a fluorescent light around which moths swarmed. When I started to stay with a, life started to brighten., glowing things seemed to fall around me in slow motion, and they drifted in a way that felt right, and I didn’t worry because I knew that when they landed, they’d land safely and fit together. I started sleeping hard and heavy. My dreams were deep and warm. 

I’ve been in many such situations, that deform your nerves and shave years off your life, but I tend to remember them fondly. In dire straights, you’re cracked wide open. You're dramatically present. You bleed. And the wonderful come along to patch and infuse you with all sorts of light. I’ve experienced quite a bit of that recently. I am lucky