"I feel ashamed and grateful and sad and angry and confused and frustrated and i wish i could do it differently."
Layers of myself become visible to any eyes as i weave truth out of untruth, seeing out of unseen
As i watch the moon pass i am reminded of the other side of the coin, the hand and the cone and the rod and the chromosome, the other. The continuous room of my being which only knows itself, has never seen itself. A perfect bead lacking consciousness of its own change which has never committed a crime or been the cause of guilt or blame. Something unchanging of me. Something that looks back at me. Someone who is not me but not separate from me. Something persisting outside and inside me. An I as me as transitional fluid. Both and neither.
Why do these kinds of abrupt departures keep happening? What’s the pattern of behavior here? They walked up to me and gave me 30 minutes to pack. The people who i thought would protect me and not hurt me. They showed me kindness and generosity even in the final moments. Am i separate from this kindness and generosity? Am i a stain to others? It scared me when they told me they don’t want me anymore. It scared me how empty their words sounded in the echo of my numbing chest. My head out the window. What were they feeling in those moments? I couldn’t show them my tears. Can only allow them in darkened moving vehicles. Can only be anonymous in this aching. Can only be a direction, forward, in this receiving.
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