Today is one of the bad days.
Today, I spend an hour over the page, spelling out my name onto paper, over and over and over again until it’s all I can see.
A curve here. A line there. A dot. Repeat.
A tear drops onto the ink and leaves a speckle of blue that wobbles when I breathe out.
Pulse rising, heart pounding.
It’s all wrong.
It isn’t me.
The paper cackles as I crush it, mocking.
I feel like a mirage, as if I’m made of smoke, fading into nothingness.
A cold squall of wind could hiss my way, and I’d be gone, only two sets of nails and thirty-four teeth swirling in a spiral down to the ground.
And then, just as quickly, they’ll turn to dust and ash, blown away in a gust of grey.
Maybe someone will look up as I billow past them, a look of distant incomprehension on their face.
Maybe another will mouth a perfect ‘O’ as my hand fleets right through their arm, grasping for a berth.
The moment will be forgotten as quickly as it came.
I’ll be forgotten.
I could have never existed.
Memories are dust. I’d lean on words any day.
On the desk I write on is etched three words and a date.
S.R. loves J.D. 2007.
If I close my eyes, I can look up and see two pale, shimmery shapes rise up from the letters, hands clutched together, eyes shining, a tender glance, a subtle kiss. I love you.
No one can refute that now. It’s evidence. Evidence that they existed, that they lived, that they loved.
I would like to have that, I think.
Decades later, I would like for a hand to run its fingers over my carving, sharpen the edges, perfect the letters. I would like to become a part of the wood, to live forever through it.
And if my name is on the page, if my name is scrawled on some distant pillar, I tell myself: I can’t disappear.
I was here.
I told you.
I told you I was.
That’s my name, I was here.
I rip the page and start over.
The paper cackles as I crush it.
PS In May 2019, I will be moving to a new web address. I’m shifting to a personal domain and I’m so, so excited for you to see it! Buying my domain is giving me so much more freedom for new features, design, and I can’t wait for you to get started there.
But on the downside, all those of you who’ve subscribed to my blog here WILL NOT be notified of new posts anymore. I’d hate for you to miss out just because I’ve shifted addresses, but WordPress doesn’t offer anything to straighten this out.
So to make sure that the change is as seamless as possible, I’d be so grateful if you’d enter your email ID below so we can stay in touch. You can opt-out any time, no hard feelings. I hate spam and I’ll only be reaching out every two weeks or so for blog updates, I promise.
Thank you so much for all your support. ❤