Speak in freedom, do not speak freely {a reflection on congratulations}

When I turned sixteen, I made sure my sister did not breath a word of it to my father.
It was Aug. 8th, and I acted natural. Ok, maybe a little more quite than normal.

I had one wish for my 16th: I wanted to go on an hour long bike ride in the country. I did. The worn fabric of my holey-gray tank top gathered together as i spread my arms out against the warm breeze I created as I moved though invisible atoms of air.

I was happy; satisfied. No one said anything, as I hoped. I got $20 from my grandma in the mail. As a summer born, I had the luxury of avoiding half-hearted blessings from classmates. The one year I did not remove my birthday from facebook, I felt so special and felt the need to respond personally to each blessing on my wall until I realized, "Oh yeah. They were responding to a pink and red box on their screen with my name on it."

This did not make their blessings less true, but for me, I did feel like a fool.

I had puffed myself up because people were responding to a social grace; a social norm.

This is why I prefer to keep my engagement private. Why we have chosen no ring.

As I grow into an adult with more complexities of self, I have become tired of acquaintance-driven small talk. I would rather converse with a stranger. In the conversation with the stranger, when each know we owe the other nothing. We can freely share an ancedote, laugh at the great complexities and simplicities of life, and at the end, call out, "have a nice day!"

It is a sincere interaction of humans bound together only through momentary space and time.

When it is someone you know, but are not really friends with, or have fallen out with,
there is OBLIGATION.
Oh, the horror!
Some where someone mandated that all individuals who had worked together, gone to social functions, or were an acquaintance twice removed from someone, and who happen to make eye contact in a random situation MUST make small talk to affirm that you know each other, affirm that you have not forgotten each other, and pretend like you actually care. (Hint: few people actually care).

Some do care.
For the some that do, the interaction is as free as an interaction with the stranger: a moment of time and place shared, but with a history of other genuine moments and times shared. For the hominid driven by social obligation however, I would rather they nod, take care of themselves, and move on.

This is one reason there is no ring on my finder though I am engaged:
I do not wish to bring unwanted attention to myself.

I barely want to tell people.

Not because I am embarrassed by my fiancee, but rather I am embarrassed by the behavior that our society mandates from those updated on the recent engagement. The classic "AW!" and "Were so HAPPY for you!" and "Where's the ring? Where's the ring?"(So superficial and materialistic).

First of all, why are you happy for me?

Nothing has changed.

If Aaron or I get accepted to the jobs of our dreams, be happy for us. If we find another great couple to live with dropping large rent down, be happy for us. If we find out we have been accepted into a program that lets us live in Europe for 2 years, Be Happy For Us!

But don't "be happy" for me for getting engaged.
Me getting engaged is really for everyone else, not for me.
It is a status change only in what we tell people.
Relationship wise? Living circumstance wise?
NOTHING HAS CHANGED.

We still FIGHT.
We still MISUNDERSTAND.
We still DOUBT.
We still get JEALOUS.
We still HAVE PROBLEMS.

 Getting engaged did not change that.

We still are attached to each other.
We still make amends.
We still demand affection from each other.
We still wait and wait and wait for the other to get home.
We still help each other out with things we don't really want to.

Getting engaged did not change that.

And the people who don't know us as a couple and find out?
You know what they say?

 "We're so happy for you!"

And I laugh!
Because this declaration, from them, means nothing to me.
They do not know us.
They do not know our trials.
Our Issues. Our Successes.

They pretend to be an intimate part of our lives when they have never been there,
like the co-worker who talks with you about the weather in the line to get coffee just because he knows your face and name.

This does not mean that the congratulations is not sincere. But it does render it unuseful and misguided.

Why do you not wish me strength to get through the next bout of loneliness when no one is home?
Why do you not tell me to call you after the next fight me and Aaron have?
Why do you not give me a somber, sweet smile, and tell me gently, "It's a long road."

Instead, you LIE
you who do not know "us"
and tell me you are "happy for me."

What good does that do me???

I have received more meaningful blessing from old men and young women of whose doors I canvassed or faces I encountered at bus stops concerning my intimate relationship with my fiance than from those who I do business with or have good times with as an individual.

Why?
because strangers were given the freedom to tell the truth.

They owed me nothing,
so they were free to give words of value.

"You're first huh? I hope it goes well for you,"
67-year-old-republican in support of responsible fraking.

"Love is a journey. You have to accept that,"
Man who got back together with his (ex)wife 2 years before she died
and was excited to show me his compost pile.

"You guys sound like you will go far together,"
30-or-40-something woman when I told her of our career goals
when I heard what she taught at the local university.

When spoken in freedom, the blessing of a stranger is more valuable than that of a polite friend.

So, unless you really have something to say,
please shut up.

communion (the need of)

a life with you
is a life alone.

a wife with you
is a wife alone.

confession

everyone asks
if they are where they are supposed to be,

if they chose the right path.

I plod this corridor,
seeing your faces
hearing your voices
not attending your events.

Like turning my head
to see through a cracked door
something private-- like one undressing
or embracing
a lover.

I see you
making music.

I see you
laughing.

I see you
sitting, walking, thinking
perhaps too strenuously.

see you

acting.
advocating.
living.


my hand trembles on the knob.
knowing the knock my disturb you inside,
that an unannounced arrival
might be too
                awkward.

I remember
I chose to leave
to be

somewhere else.


Do I close the door,
or continue
to watch from afar?

-----------------------------

For My "dear", Lauren
The one who confuses me, Martin
the ones who taught me to think, Liz Core, Andrew, Henry, Joe, Keith.

The ones I could have been "In" with.

For conversations sparked and lost.

For those I have neglected.

Last year Goshen... Say good bye?

carving

inch
  by inch,

rather,

micrometer by manometer,

                                        canyons are carved.

like a crayon,
         craving for a four year old's hand,

you carve a smear across my wall.

                                                   Stress builds.

you were just playing.
you do not understand
                                 the history

that brought us to this breaking point,
                                                       the number lashes
                                                       whipped by westerly winds that finally made way for

                                        a canyon.
   



I feel I am fighting the wind.

it laughs.
                                                 

engagement

there is freedom from desire,
one man said,
there is freedom from pain.

there is freedom from wanting,
one man said,
wanting to have and to hold.

there is freedom?
from feeling put aside?
from wanting  to hide?

from having to wonder
if you are where you are supposed to be.

sometimes I know that freedom.

Other days, I do not.

Jealous

the son of man
has no place to rest his head.

niether does

the commuter.
the one outside
of community.

seat, to seat,
I can not sit.

computer, to device.
I cannot compute.

Land!
Glance.

Athletes in wigs--a house of friends.
bonded by silliness
by communal
action.

Flood.

in seat, I sit.
before device,
I compute.

JEALOUS I AM 
of what I put aside.

the son of man
has no place to rest his head.

you rest your head
on shoulder of men

who laugh.
who love.
             with others.
who adore
your pursuit
of humanities.
                    of humanizing.

I rest my head.
end of day.

smile. kiss. bliss.

destroyed.
by dehumanizing,
criticizing,
pessimission.

I try to ignore.
                     Choose love.

JEALOUS I AM
of what i fear i have not chosen.


wasted time
now I fear,

but oh, no matter the year,
the hour,
the moment.

Is it wasted
if it yields, revelation?

 some say yes.
                    others?
                    revel in revelation.

failure, I believe, is one of the components that make up loneliness.

you can be alone, and feel worthwhile, feel satisfied with your self,
but when you feel lonely, you sense there is something off.

I doubt that many of us admit that we think the loneliness we feel may be our own fault, but I also believe that is part of the pain; the sheer disbelief that we are causing our own pain.

 Despite the fact that we can blame someone for leaving us here alone to fend with the shadow of the wolf who carves out our insides when no one is watching our life as their cherished screen,  even when we do not screctly know that we are the cause for alienation of friends and loved ones, of distance, sometimes the filure comes simply with the fact that we let our selves feel lonely-- that we let ourselves be weak.

we indulge in our weakness. That next chocolate you can't resist, even though you know the 12 grams of fat it contains per serving. You think, quietly, so you don't hear yourself, and thus don't have to admit it to anyone, "I deserve to feel lonely. I deserve to live in the cave for awhile until someone rescues me."

I will contest, there are less selfish modes of loneliness-- pure uttered {cries} of the soul for companion, but more often than not, the kind of loneliness we experience, I believe, is the one I have been describing: the loneliness of the stubborn.

To be free is to admit that you cause your own suffering; that duka can be overcome. But who of us that is stubborn will admit such a thing?

There the challenge lies.

to know that we are significant,

but not significantly important,

that are presence can be felt,

but not always needed,

that the stress we feel

of attending

is often

imagined. 

choices

you,
my love,
my dear,
             exuberant one
             whom everyone loves,
             who called me "Mum,"

you,
      I have healed bonds.
praise courage.
praise theater.

                   mourn self blame.
                                                            distance.
 you,
my shock,
my friend?
               awakened thoughts,
               who flirted-- with everyone,
               who caught me in arms,
                                                   once.
you,
      I know not our standing.
mourn stammers.
mourn silence.

                 praise distance?
                                            busy.

GONE
i wonder,
because of one,

because of choice.

because of me.


you, my dear-- I miss your dreams.
you, my friend?-- I miss your convictions.

you-- the one I have,

you share these
sometimes;
dreams, convictions.

but more often than not,
silence
tease
disapprove

of mine.

                                                                  did I mean to choose this path?
                                                                                                       doubt
                                                                                    but not fear. 

           

fine?

when spoken,
my thoughts--ran over.

labeled
over
     DRAMATIC.

when silence,
only allowed
                   seconds
                                for my mind, our existence
                                                          in peace.

then,
"what?"

...

  "what?"
"Fine."
 hmpf.

Not allowed thought.
Not allowed silence.
ok
try again. Discuss.

                            oh, you don't know?
                            oh, you mis-understand?
                                               "Oh My GAAWD! Forget it!"

remain calm. forget it. enjoy night and moon.

         "No dog on bed."
 request.

           "I want puppy! hugs hugs hugs."
    defy.

five.
-_- *sigh*
fine.

"I'll pay for tickets.   No concessions though."
"Junk food?" fine
                          [ line ]

spent more than before.
                                   defeated.
                                                fine.
still okay. still enjoy.
I have your company  <3

"Study?"
"sure."

Noise.

Noise.

"Pet?"
"Play?"
work?

nope. "No music." "Hmpf. fine."

                                        FIVE.
complies. (thank you.)


buzz, buzz, buzz-- "aw! cold!"
"Game game game!"
{uncomfortable joints}
                                               {droopy eyes}



GIVE UP!

                 "Sleep."

                  at peace.
 join me,    
                     sweet.

Kisses, thanks. :)

start something.
                       WAIT.
                              No time for this frustration.
                               ow, nails. : (
"Hmpf."
Leave.

              Fine.
Sleep,
         fine.
miss presence, enjoy space. 

Awake, wonder:
                          is this really fine?

Next day will be better,
                                   Right?
only if I'm gone.