Tuesday, September 21, 2010

R. I. P.

Fall is here; it feels good in my bones.
September is almost over and it seems summer is just starting to blur it's sweltering death vision upon the earth. Not to say that I had a bad summer, actually, it was great. It's just that there seems to come a sense of nostalgia with the fall, unlike with the summer. And to my surprise, I am embracing those feelings.

By all right, this should be a time that I generally choose to bitterly reject. It was the favorite season of my star-crossed ex; one whom I shared a birthday with, first kiss, blah blah blah. And so the happy story went for five years. What a doozy. Anyway, he loved autumn which probably explains why he chose to get married this month. I'm not sure if the wedding is coming or going, and I don't really have a vexed interest because for the first time in some time, I can truthfully say that I don't give a fuck.

Somehow, before I left for this place, we were able to patch a few threads of friendship that were free of ulterior motives. We had crossed through “maybe someday” land into “not gonna happen” county all the way to “not never gonna damn'n hell'n happen, 'n stay offa my property” holler. And that's where we stayed for a while, trial and erroring painfully between friendship and relationship. Until I got out the sawed off, and blew his stupid face off. hahaha Jk. But truthfully, everything must reach equilibrium at some point, and we did. He isn't gone from my mind, but has flickered away into a murky glow of the past and I am happy for his and for my peace. 
That feeling arrived about 25 months after the expected delivery date. But in this sublime season of wilt and rot, my sincere happiness is the proof that I've been waiting for; I am free from the cycle of my destructive subconscious. 

On a walk to the supermarket this week, I told my boyfriend about fall in Michigan - picking apples, drinking cider, carving pumpkins. All that happy horse shit. He's from Jamaica, so his understanding of changing seasons may be slightly retarded, but he offered a courteous smile while I jabbered on about jumping into gianormous leaf piles.

Fall here doesn't mean all the same things that are wallpapered to my memory. Once I tried to carve a Jack-o-lantern from a kabochya (Japanese pumpkin...they're green and very tough), and almost broke my kitchen knife. It looked like shit, but I displayed it proudly on my apartment step until it's face caved in and was covered in fruit flies. It's been refreshing to experience this time from a new perspective and look upon my past with a simplified nostalgia. It's good to be taking the first steps into fall even though it's been waiting on me for a while now.

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