Back again tonight as insomnia threatens me with a crushing blow.  I can’t seem to relax at night here yet and then I spend my day completely exhausted.  I feel like I know how this happened, I know the exact moment when the switch hit my brain and said, “there’s a problem here.” I can feel everything about it down to the curve of my spine.  I replay it over and over again as I lie here awake, a breath away from hyperventaling, thinking about when I was little and I used to lie terrified in my bed, willing myself back to sleep after a nightmare, wanting so badly to get up and flee to my parent’s room but knowing I could not make it a habit.  So I would try to be diplomatic with myself.  How terrified was I?  Was I sweating?  Nauseous?  Or was I just afraid.  Was the dream about a make believe thing like getting chased by a dragon or a real thing like getting hit by a car?  How plausible would my reasoning be behind getting up and going to my Mom?  I would weigh the options, and sometimes terror would get the better of me, and off I would go- but more than those nights that I did go, I remember how angry I used to feel that I had to barter with myself over fear.  I hated that I couldn’t just sleep like everyone else- that my nights were endlessly plagued by being chased or kidnapped, bloodied or separated by fire or water or earthquake from my parents.  I was angry that the logical thinking me knew there was no reality behind the dreams, but the feeling breathing me was scared and shaking.  I can’t help but think of those times now when I lie awake, fears a little more realistic and that much closer to coming true- and I test myself- how much panic before I get up?  Where can I go if I am too panicked to stay in bed?  Bathroom?  Front porch? Jacob’s room?  What are the levels of hysteria that match each location?  And all of it has such an easy fix that I am powerless to make happen. I was so spoiled.  Spoiled enough to remember what its like to feel completely secure for long enough to forget what it feels like not to be.

I’m going to listen to “Vincent” and then try again for rest.

Ever Virgin.

I haven’t been vague or absent on purpose.  I’ve had a lot of unexpected events mar me from my usual course of life, had to say a few goodbyes that I wasn’t anticipating, had to work a little bit harder than I had hoped to stay afloat in my least favorite month of the year- but its merely days from ending. Moving has taken a lot out of me in many ways.  I have found that while this new space (once finished) will be a haven for me, it also has that dangerous potential of cloaking me in the warm but dangerous arms of complacency.  I cannot even begin to describe how good and safe it is.  How things that should make me reel with horror and sadness, things that I never thought I would be able to get over, seem sort of dull and pointless when I am in this space.

At first, I felt guilty, like I was being selfish to be happy and content in my home, to not need to always be out and away- to just want to sit on the couch flanked by warm pets and listen to Jacob playing piano from the other room- like I should somehow be grieving or incomplete- but I don’t feel that, I got over the guilt. Now I am just happy that I feel like I am home, and that home is here, and that my friends love me, cherish me, and would never easily cast me aside no matter who asked them to or how many mistakes I have made.  because that is what friends do- love each other, and forgive one another.  Its a hard lesson to learn, it has been hard for me to fully commit to, but I think it’s true.  So I just try to live as I’ve been taught to live, learning from my own mistakes, forgiving those who wrong me, and loving everyone as I love myself.  It sure gets difficult- but I like a challenge.

The house is quiet now, I’m the only restless one in bed tonight- I’m ready to join the great pool of dreams.  Few and humble readers: tell your friends how much you love them, you never know when it will be the last opportunity to do so.

I love you.

Ever Virgin.

I look at you lying there

sleeping so soundly

sometimes I wish I could sleep as calm as you

and I bet in your dreaming I’m there

I look peaceful and maybe you’d assume

I’m lost in dreaming too

but despite how I try to close my eyes and join you

despite how I try to hold my breath and body still

despite how I try not to jolt you or wake you

I can’t sleep I don’t breath  I won’t move

Am I fufilled

I look at you lying there and I love you

I want to sleep for decades by side

but with you I’m restless I’m running on empty

I’m living a life  where I have comprimised

You’d think in my sleep I’d see you in my future

You’d think in my dreams I’d see our kids play on the lawn

you’d think in my nightmares I’m living life without you

You would think you would guess but I can’t sleep

So you’d be wrong

You have brown eyes and I love brown eyes

I love how you’re almost six feet tall

I love how we question if god’s really there

and how we hate christmas time at the mall

and on paper we’re great  and our stars are alligned

and it looks like it was all meant to be

but night after night I keep shutting my eyes

and I try but I find I cant sleep

I look at you lying sleeping without me

I bet you’d never guess my restlessness just grows

and while I want to shut my eyes and know the things you know

I can’t sleep I can’t breath I can’t move

How I wish I could wake you I wish I could jolt you I wish I could love you

but wishing that I’d loved you isn’t really loving

I suppose.

Ever Virgin

There is this very quiet part of the morning, usually just before seven in the morning.  I wake up and I am weary with fatigue, clinging desperately to sleep.  Lavan is quiet in her crate, not far from view, Jacob sleeps beside me, still thickly wrapped in dreams, he’s clueless to the sounds and color of the morning in our new apartment.  Truly, we are not moved in.  Our boxes and bags fill rooms indiscriminately, trying to edge towards the walls or the middle of the floors to stay out of the way as we shuffle between filthy rooms, frustrated and forlorn.  In that quiet time, I cannot help but imagine what our new apartment WILL be once all the remodeling is complete.  The walls, cool linen white, will host tasteful art and artifacts.  New carpet and linoliem will bear the burden of four feet and twelve paws.  New furniture, clean and sleek will be arranged just so that it feels comfortable and spacious.  The baby grand piano will be a graceful beacon in the dining room and my art table will flank it just so that both of our artful passions will move against each other seamlessly.  The air will not smell of smoke, and the warm trembling of the dryer will continuously waft the sweet scent of dryer sheets into the kitchen and beyond.  It’s going to be home.  In those quiet morning moments I don’t feel stressed, or angry, or trapped- I feel safely cradled between reality and my new-day dream, and it is a very good feeling.

This week has been insanity, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I am a little worse for wear, but I am trucking on with honesty and good cheer, and hopefully soon I will have a lot more to celebrate.  Teaching my first college class was certainly a treat today- it was scarier than I thought- but the kids seem really nice.  I look forward to their journals coming in this week so I can get to know them even more.  I’m tired. Very tired.

Ever Virgin