Take Seven

I came home from work today, took a nap, meditated (I never know what I'm doing but I've been doing it a ton and it changes so much!), and lay across my bed to record a necessary audio letter.  All of the above was cathartic.

Then I got up, took a long shower that I shaved my legs during, got out, put cocoa butter oil all over my body, combed my wet hair, and looked myself directly in the eyes in the mirror. It had been one of those showers where you didn't just wash the dirt off, you somehow inadvertently washed off the weight of something that was never yours to have to hold in the first place.

(pause)

Tonight I met up with a friend of mine I haven't seen in a while at the one lesbian bar this town has. I haven't been there in years. Anyway, while sitting there, my friend accidentally dropped a blush compact on the ground and it shattered. She got the bartender's attention and told her "Hey, we are going to clean it up, but I have to apologize because I just dropped a blush compact and it may have made a mess", to which the bartender paused and looked genuinely sorry and said, "No. *I'm* sorry. That your blush compact broke. That sucks."  My heart softened a bit at this: It feels so fucking good to be around masc women who are femme allies in this way.  It may seem subtle or even silly, but man, it makes femmes feel so much more comfortable, safe and seen in their skin. A smile and a warm toast to those who are the likes of that long haired butch behind the bar.

(pause)

Earlier today, I dressed in the drag of commitment by calling to see if my life partner who lives with me would be covered under my five free therapy sessions plan.  Does this life partner who lives with me exist? Not exactly. But while I was mouthing the words to the woman on the phone, it felt so oddly incredible, this drag. I felt so committed. So wanted.  So family-having. It was nice.

On the up side, I now know that if a good friend is in dire need of therapy, we can pretend to be a couple and I can just work it so that everything gets focused on them. You gotta do what you gotta do. Creative resource sharing.

In any case, it's been a sad 48 hours.  I've learned some things to take with me, and have the dull ache in my heart to stay.  It will be rough to start imagining a life without a Little Lamby, but what can you do when your love has been deemed too expensive? What can you do when the rain of somebody else's rage never lets up?

Nothing but honesty. Nothing but miss her until you don't.



Be well; be loved,

k.

[image From The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (Tony Richardson, 1962)]