Getting back to normal

Things I could do to be Shelby again:

-Start writing that next great American novel

-Eat at diners

-Busk in Denver

-Go to dive bars on the weekends

-Dance to folk music with Paige 

-Do random cartwheels 

-Take long drives

-Take long walks

-Drink more cappuccinos

-Get more tattoos

-Invest in more artwork for the apartment

-Go to art galleries

-Go to farmers markets

-Go to the Brass Armadillo

-Go to Two Rivers

-Sing in the kitchen

-Keep dyeing my hair a new color every five minutes
-Read Beat poetry
-Eat fast food in the parking lot

Unicorns and my Boyfriend

Never had I ever had no doubts, not a single one to speak of. Not before it was you that I saw with every blare of that alarm clock, the annoyance of being jarred awake now smoothed into bliss by your eyes in the morning, by you saying "Hello" like we're meeting all over again.

I never knew this happiness existed.

It's almost mythical, almost unbelievable, justthisclose from being as unreal as a unicorn. I never knew it was possible, never knew it was feasible, to feel so alive, to keep so warm, to be so safe. I miss you the moment you walk out the door, and rush to you like a kid the second you return, and never get tired of a single mundane moment, and never get over that look that you're giving me. You protect me from the weather, from the constant wildfire, from the blaze in myself, from the embers in you. You protect me with your yeses and your nos and your never agains, with the phone calls you refuse to take and your simple resolve to keep us alive. 

I don't deserve a single ounce of it, but I'll never stop fighting to keep it here. Never. 

Don't Think Of Me

Think of me between Kerouac's pages. Think of me on the corner of Colfax and Broadway. Think of me in every Village Inn you enter.

But don't think of me when your hands hover over the camera.

Don't think of me in the canyons, or when you stick your thumb out in the dust of the highway. Don't think of me when your sun is rising as mine sets on the other side. Don't think of me as you wander, chainless, freeing us mere mortals around you with your oxygen. Don't think of me as you run to the shakiest ground, as you find the silent stars. Don't think of me.

Don't you dare think of me.
You have bigger fish to fry.

Where I once was in your story, that's where I will stay. Always elusive, buried in a book, stuck in a rut, with a ring in my nose and a song for you choking in my throat.

Think of me when you visit those days. Hold tight. And then,

let go.

You Can Try, But...

You can sit through hours of misery, or leave him alone to ponder his crimes. You can scream in his face until you're satisfied, or fidget quietly through the silence of a hundred long car rides. You can search his things for the evidence, or protect yourself from knowing any more than you already do. You can write him a thousand love notes, and reach for him in the dark, and celebrate all of his victories, and seal your lips at the sight of his faults. You can shake sense into him, hammer sense into him, slap sense into him, talk sense into him. You can talk all day and every tired moment of the night. You can talk while he's listening. You can talk while he's drunk. You can talk in a voice you no longer recognize. You can get tired of talking. You can work on yourself. You can wear on him. You can write down the rules. You can change the rules to guidelines. You can watch the guidelines fade into distant memory. You can cry, you can cry, you can cry until he can't stand the sight of you. You can both cry together, but it won't make a difference. You can move in. You can move back out. You can change your hair, your face, your standards. You can drag him to church. You can drag him to therapy. You can beat yourself numb, try until you bleed, break your bones just to make it work. You can lay it all on the line. 

You can walk away. You can close the door behind you. You can grieve and mourn and lose yourself again.

Do everything you can, everything he needs, everything in your power.

But make no mistake my dear - he will never change.