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Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Bones




Some people remain the same most of their lives and they're recognizable; familiar. These past few years have been constant change. My familiar faltered reality became unfamiliar territory the day I moved away and looking back at everything that has happened, the only thing that still remained the same were my bones. Strong, bruised skeleton holding together an imperfect being. Growing into an adult and baring the ages of wear and tear that bring me to this place, here. My bones held me together as I was sitting on my first airplane away from home. The fear of being up so high, gasping air trying not to get lost. To stay grounded. My bones carried weight.

I remember crying. I cried a lot. It was one of those body guttering cries too, the ones where your insides shook and your heart felt like it was collapsing from emotions but somehow it kept pumping. I remember feeling like I had died and having absolutely no control over anything. I had Jack. I had my mom. I had myself and I started working on me.

Then I bought tickets and I remember fireworks. I remember my grandparents pouring champagne on New Years and knowing it might be my last time there. My bones carried me to a different airport in the winter and landed me back to an unfamiliar family. The doorknobs felt different. I remember how much it bothered me that all the doorknobs felt different. Off center, too low, just not right. I found a job. 

I worked for a man who was balding with promises. Tall and told me about how people really thought. Very blunt, very honest; nothing like the quiet back in Austria. The people that would never quite touch, never quite speak, never really listen. He never listened, the man. But I cared. There was light. Two little boys that were light; eyes that were so happy and love. I felt love that wasn't tainted and wasn't forced and I cared. I had reasons. Reasons to smile and laugh and love. I turned twenty. 

I met back up with the sun. The sun from my past that warmed my bones and made me feel wanted. He was the sun. Jack knew too much, saw too much, felt too much. The sun knew little, cared less, wanted more. He was comfortable. I was so grateful to have someone love me again, to have someone want me and need me. I had to work. I had to work and beg for him to want me to be his too and it hurt. It hurt everyday having to try so hard to be worth loving. 

I found hope. I got a new job and I found passion again. I found purpose from people who didn't need me and didn't have to but wanted me. I wore bones that were thinned with sorrow and I was unloved. I was unloved until it went too far and then it stopped. It had to stop so it did. I stopped it and my tongue tasted new colours. 

Sometimes I sit and I experience the days and forget how much has happened to make the person I'm existing to be now. Sometimes I forget why I'm so tired and why my heart is so scared. I forget why I give up faster than push through and forget how much loss and sadness my skeleton has buried. 

Bones.
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