I’ve never really been here before. Coming off my first huge manic episode in years, followed by a leveling out, a peace of mind, and an acceptance if you will, that where I am now is so much different – and BETTER – than anywhere I’ve ever been before.

And then all of a sudden I’m doing silly things like leaving my heated car seats plugged in and killing my car battery. Contemplating all the shit my brain does and says from every what if to fractal math and quantum physics and all of a sudden I can’t sleep because I can’t quite comprehend if infinity is real, or if it’s even enough time for everything I want to find answers to, as I’m here questioning every what if and every reality wondering if perhaps this time I really did find my way through that childhood poster with the unicorn and end up somewhere in Narnia. Because clearly, this isn’t real.

Another whirlwind weekend where time goes too fast, but at the same time too slow as I remember and cherish every moment, and I’m wide awake exhausted questioning so much about every bit of reality I’ve known this life and apparently every life – at least those that I can remember – before this one.

You see, I’m a loner. I have friends – lots of them – and the good ones I’d die for without a second thought or a first request because that’s what friends are, or at least that’s who I am. But this is different. This is something I can’t explain. Something I thought I wished for to be so impossible that it couldn’t possibly ever come true because then I’d be safe. I’d be able to continue – alone – for as long as I need.

I like my castle. My walls. My barbed wire. My over exuberant social and work life that leads me to be the person that knows everyone and everything and is at home everywhere right up until it’s time for me to retreat to my mountain where I can find the solitude and silence in the woods that makes me feel whole. It was a different mountain before this one, but this is the mountain I live at now and it’s different. It’s better. It’s taller and stronger, like me these days. And I know that I am all the strong I’ll ever need to get through this.

I’ll get through this. I always do. But this time I also don’t want to run away.

Sitting awake listening to Jason Aldean and realizing my walls are crumbling because when you’re not here, I miss you. When you are here, it’s like the world melts away and it’s just us. And when you are gone again, I can’t breathe.

Sometimes I can’t breathe because I’m so god damned afraid I don’t know what to do. I couldn’t breathe after we talked about tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that, and I said I didn’t want to run away because I couldn’t imagine a tomorrow without you in it. And then I couldn’t breathe again. You Make It Easy came on the radio on my way home today, and I couldn’t breathe again then, either, because suddenly that song made me think of you, and how easy this is and then my brain kicks in to remind me nothing is easy and everything good goes away and the air became thin again.

I want you here more, but I also need to breathe. I don’t know how to do both, but it seems every day I am learning. Space is a good thing but just how much is a thing I have never stopped to think about before. I always was willing and able to wholly and completely run the fuck away. Far away. I could breathe over there. But you’re not over there. You’re right here.

Suddenly, I don’t want to run, and I don’t know where that leaves me or what it means.

Every cheesy rom com movie comes to mind, from Sweet Home Alabama (so I can kiss you any time I want), to Practical Magic (I wished for you because it was impossible for you to exist – but you’re here) and then there I go choking for oxygen again with the realization that movies aren’t life, and no life is that good, especially not mine. It’s never been, not this life and not as long as I can remember. And I remember a lot.

I don’t know how to just be here, and breathe, and just be. Maybe it’s like the Killers said, and I’m just in a rut. Don’t give up on me, I’m just in a rut. I’m climbing but the walls keep stacking up. Please, don’t give up on me. I’m just in a rut. I can find the air out there, somewhere, if I just keep believing that this is real. That maybe I was lucky enough to deserve this. To deserve you. To believe that all those years and lives of fierce loyalty and lioness strength has lead me down this path where I get to stand beside you.

Or maybe I’m wrong and suddenly I will wake up and it’ll all be over. Like a ghost in a dream, whispers of a past I don’t remember or try not to, and I can face the world with the stark cynicism of a steadfast soul that is used to fighting for friends with the strong solitude of confidence that comes only from a past littered with loss and despair that only the strongest can overcome.

Maybe I’m still wrong. Maybe I just need to breathe. My chest keeps tightening. I’m terrified. I’m falling – I’ve already fallen – and I don’t know how to fly. I never really have. I just fall, pick up the pieces, and start over. and over. and over. and over. It’s just who I am. It’s just who I’ve always been.

Tonight I’ll try to bribe my mind with thoughts of quiet solitude and a chance of you here. Tomorrow I’ll try to breathe again and remember, every day is just one day. One more day forward doing the best I can. One day, that best will be good enough. You’ve already said I’m perfect. I’m trying so hard to see in myself what you say you already see in me. I am doing the best I can with everything I can. Everything. Because something tells me this is it. You are it. This is what I’ve been fighting for my whole life. The life I’ve been fighting for my friends to find for themselves. I just never really believed that I deserved that myself, but I believe in you and it seems you believe in me and I hold onto that hope and faith like a battle cry or banner as I fight my own demons. They’re almost gone but they still tell me I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.

I deserve you.

We deserve this.


If only I could breathe.