Clairvoyance (pt. 5)

I think you got the message. my head has been mostly silent since I released all that rage. it’s uncomfortable, the calm after a storm ripping through my soul for months (with record-breaking rain and flash floods, drenching me and my already too-fragile composition). But it’s also peaceful. The birds are starting to come out, the clouds are breaking again. I wish you could live in this state of my soul with me, i wish to never again harbor a natural event to that extent. the flooding was so bad, I think I saw the ark float by at one point; bobbing through the waves, trying to not to capsize in my shaken-up mind. why couldn’t we be on that boat with the rest of the pairs? Weathering the storm, but together as lovers, maybe a little seasick but safe, knowing paradise waits on the other side of this vast sea.

I didn’t want to release you, but I was about to drown in all those emotions all by myself, emotions that weren’t even mine. Thank you for stepping out of my head, or at least quieting that energy and ducking into another room. with love, you’re not allowed access to a subscription you’re not paying for. Not even with commercials. I want you to have access. I want you to show up. Every day I feel myself letting go of you more and more. I don’t have anyone else. But when this fades, you know I probably will. You always wait until it’s too late, hesitate for just a little too long. Aren’t you scared the door will close for another five years? Aren’t you terrified that it might be sealed forever? The key has your name on it, but I could make a few spares, see if they can figure out how to open me up. you’ve done it in the past, deftly, like this is your home, like you’ve lived here for years. You know how to insert the key at just the right angle, turn the knob just right, jiggle it a little and push.

Sure, we both know how to replace the lock. we both know I’ve been giving out faulty keys or giving the wrong instructions for years, subconsciously. I gave you the right key and no instructions but you didn’t need them. You walked right in, kicked off your shoes, stopped to reach down and scratch the chins of the kitties waiting eagerly at the door. You actually brought some things, and you start restocking the pantry. But it looks like you brought more than just gifts. Look at all that baggage you dropped at the door, thinking I wouldn’t see it peeking out from behind the grocery bags. my space isn’t big enough for all of that and it looks like you’re prepared to leave anytime, so I ignore it too.

But fuck I keep tripping over it!! And when I fall (when, not if), when I inevitably injure myself while distracted by you, you do pick it up. You do move it out of the way. You open the door and take it all with you, as quickly as you came. And now I’m on my ass. Hurting. Hoping maybe you went to the bodega to get pain meds? Or that you found somewhere to drop off all that baggage, release enough of it that you can get back through my door. Maybe you’re picking up flowers and chocolate, prepared to apologize for both hurting me and leaving me. I’m sitting here hoping that you’re on your way back. Any minute now.

There’s that deja vu again. right now, as I’m writing, a shock that felt like you went through me, a flash of a frame clicking into place, past glimpses of the future finally merging with present realities. my stomach flips, im starting to vibrate, my heart is squeezing and jumping and I can’t breathe enough air into my chest full of butterflies. are you here? Like, actually here? Right now? I’ve been feeling like you’re back in my city but i don’t trust my senses. I’m wary of the spiritual psychosis that I’m toeing the line of already. (cont.)