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drink of me26 May 2009 - 01:44 My life is (sort of) forming towards what I was hoping it would be when I was 16. The illusion of perfection that once surrounded me has dropped, and I am grateful for that. I would rather know myself, know what it's like to break, know what it feels like to reintegrate, than appear to be perfect. But there have been times when I've wondered: why did I cast my lot for so many years with people exploring such dark things? Why couldn't I have attached to friends and lovers who went straight to graduate school instead of dropping out of one of the best schools in the country at the age of 21? Why did I listen to fierce, almost animal impulses, imprinting, instead of my own experience and what I knew, knew even five years ago, felt good? Last night I had a dream that my best friend died. I woke up at 3:30 AM sweating, shaking. The dream hadn't just caused me all kinds of grief and guilt; it had reawakened in me the bonds that have to go to sleep when she does or else I'll go insane. I don't know if I can put our connection into words; Lord knows I've tried. If you can imagine all the music that we've loved in the time we've known each other, all the roads that we've traveled -- if between every note and down every crack in the pavement there existed a world full of rainbows, roses, broken glass, a world that merges a visual and emotional aesthetic that sears your eyes like sunrise and sunset... As I lay awake in the middle of the night reeling over the past, my loss of the past, those questions about what would have happened had I gravitated towards different people when I was younger seemed like the most ridiculous and idiotic questions I've ever asked. In the summer of 2003 I was on a bridge in Redding with Kale, just getting to know him, still recovering from a depression that made me long for death daily for three years. We were talking about vampires (of course). He is the only person who has ever said the following to me: "That's a dream of mine, to be a vampire. Any way I could do it, any price I had to pay, it would be worth it -- to be alive forever and for all time." I already loved him, and my heart soared even higher when I heard those words. Those words were the things that made difficult times later on possible to bear. If someone had asked me the day before, "Would you live forever if you could?", I would have said no. But when Kale said he would, I knew I agreed with him. I knew that I wanted to live forever, too. Even now, with so much of what I love wrapped up in a person with an active death wish, I am in love with life, and I want to live forever. |