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.

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