Many a time I will be listening to the radio,
And a song will come up…
And it will remind me of a person.

But usually its not a song about a person.
Its what I believe they think of me.

A song, if given the chance, they would associate with me or themselves.

For example the song ‘In the End’ by Linkin Park would be a song Chris would have used.

Today I was inside Ryan’s head hearing this song.

Thinking through him, how much it says about my... his... life at that moment.

It was just the feeling I got.

After all I guess I have the right to insight regarding his thoughts.
Perhaps I’m being too righteous about this…

I sit on the bus,
CD player resting in my palms…

Listening.

She’s going away


And I wonder how the whole incident was sparked.

Why he feels so unaccomplished.
Why must he worry?

When I’m here…


What’s wrong with my life today?

And I can’t be there or say anything right.

Stupid Girl

And I just draw in and close up…

I make it all that much worse.

Stupid Girl…

And yet I’m told I can make it all that much better.

There was a rut in the day.
All had become so numb.

Everything around me.

Somber.

And I got lost for a moment.

Flashes in my mind-

Flashes of times I could have done something,
But had become so paralyzed with fear I couldn’t speak or move.

I couldn’t breathe right.

I couldn’t see out my eyes into the present.

I saw nothing but the past.
Too much and not enough air.

Drying throat.

I didn’t want him to die out in the desert.

How could I save him like this?
I didn’t even exist as a thinking being for a time.

And then…

Did he sing…?
Had I imagined it?

My mind tends to focus on musical things… something anything.
Any instrument.
Any singing voice.

I know I had heard him.

I could have sworn...

Strangely, he has accomplished more than he’ll ever know by doing the simplest things.

He doesn’t need to do it on a grand scale.

At least not for me.
Ryan, if only you knew or saw it as well as I.

I am proud of you.

I am.

***

*P.S. You are a dork, my dear Ryan.
Is that point better?

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it's not nice to point ; )

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Today we are blaming Ryan: Samurai with a Tie for the absence of postage for the 18th

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I apologize for lack of motivation to blog. Ryan is better though- will post later.

---

 
Forty minutes into a dream that is progressively growing more intense into nightmare stages-
I get a call.

It’s Ryan.

And he is going to the hospital.


Ryan and I usually sleep over the phone.

But this time…
Ryan was horribly ill.

I decided I would get off the phone so his fever would have one less thing to rattle his already flaring thought process.

He is so sick…
And I’m not there.

Damn me.

As he strained to breathe words over the phone and keep his composure,
I learned he would be heading off to the ER.

And just like that,
Its silent.

And I’m worried.

I can only retreat to one place to gather myself and receive minor consolation.

As the hot water runs over me,
My gaze lowers and I notice the drain is no longer stopped up.

There would be no pooling water to gaze endlessly into and lose myself.

This morning everyone and their mother decided to wake up at the same time to use the bathroom.

The toilets flushing so much that it causes hot searing water to melt my back.

I am all too used to this.

My skin feels weak.
Joints ache.

I can’t return to my sleep.

I’m too worried
And my dreams may become too prophetic again.

This morning before the call…

I dreamt I was in a store.

In my hand I held a messaging device to talk to Ryan,
When suddenly I couldn’t breathe anymore.

I was typing wildly.

‘Please help me!’

The eerie music settled in and here is where the phone rang.

No, I don’t think I will even go to class.

I need to be here.
And will be.

***

I have just received a call.

The person happens to be Mike,
Ryan’s ‘roommate’.

From what I heard,

After dealing with the usual inhospitable hospital personel
They got him into a room with an IV…
He should be okay…

Sigh

Hopefully, Ryan will be back soon…

But I still worry.

***


There is a reason most of my dreams feel like bad ones.

Simply because when I wake up,
They aren’t real.


I had the most incredible dreams about Ryan.
He was vividly portrayed in painful detail within all of my dreams.

Sometime between Mike’s call and me lying on the bed staring upward in unshakable concern…
I had passed out.

Dreaming for the second time.

My mind went into overdrive.
It rendered the uncanniest situations with him.

Happy ones.
Painful ones.
Confusing ones.

My brain is so feverishly worked up about this like I never have been before.
I had not cried like this since I lost… Jay.

Choking, rending, sobbing pain.
Threatening to expel your heart straight out through your sternum at any given moment.

I’ve never been so afraid and concerned for anyone in this way.

I am unknowing and unable to help.

Tears hold no powers of consolation, but they still come.

I’m crying.
Ryan, I am helpless...

***

The greatest relief of this day was finally making that call.

I had decided not to call and wake him for several hours.
He needed the rest and he had a fever to fend off.

I was nervous when I did get around to calling.

Fear he wouldn’t be better.
Or safe at home.

I had to ease my mind somehow.

I took the plunge and called.

Mike answered, so I was scared at first…
But he turned his phone off so I could try and contact Ryan myself.

He sounded groggy, but he was okay.
He hadn’t gotten sick again.

Headache and fever.

I hoped it would pass soon.

If only I were there…

I wonder how much longer before ends can meet and tie down.

But for the moment I’m watching over as he sleeps.
And I hope it is for once, restful.

---

 
I’m not sure how many tries it took me to get the tie right.
Nothing seemed to work.

My memory failed me and I had to resort to pathetically drawn diagrams.

Four in Hand.
Evil sloppy method.

Windsor.
For longer ties than this.

Half Windsor.
It fit, but just how to get it to stay neat…

Finally got it.

I tighten it gently and put on my vest.
Slip on my coat.

My shades made the ensemble complete.

I had to get out for a moment.
I wanted to enjoy the sunset over the river this evening.

I imagined holding Ryan’s hand as I walked down the boulevard.

I was walking parallel to the river
Gazing at the liquid, glowing sun.

Soaking in its lingering warmth.

The river was a mirror of gold.

To my shock, very few people were here at the park to enjoy this view.

Maybe it was too hot for them.

One young gentleman was sitting alongside the river,
Thoughtfully smoking a cigarette…
Trying to make it last as long as the sun was hanging in the sky.

And it hung.

But as I watched at the crest of the hill
Leaning against a tree…
It dipped far and low-

Then disappeared.

Many precious moments are short lived such as this.

It is why it should be important to savor the moments as best as possible.

When I turned around
A giant, misty moon shared her lonely face with me.

She was incredibly beautiful tonight.

I wished Ryan were here to see it all unfold.

Oh but for such a beautiful moment…
Something drastic was lurking.

And that something.

Would happen to Ryan.

And I would be left powerless.

---

 
For anyone who was ever forced by their mother to gargle warm salt water to heal a sore throat,
You may very well relate to swallowing the proverbial grain of salt as well.

It’s something that makes you gag and want to run or hide.

It’s not something you want to do.
I tried to avoid it as much as possible.

When she wasn’t looking I’d dump half of it down the sink,
Pretending to spit it out.

It was simply terrible.

However, despite this uncomfortable process…
It truly did work.

The same goes for what I was about to encounter this evening.

Ebbles.

Now, I have not seen Ebbles in a good three months,
Despite my two meager attempts to e-mail him in search of helpful and/or relieving wisdom.

A man of infinite wisdom plus one.

Surprisingly, I was not shocked to hear the avoidance story.
I sort of figured that out around the first Ebbles-less month.

I knew he’d be smart and not get in the way,
So it was all very understandable.

But talking with him
Even I learn things about myself I do not wish to hear.

Perhaps things most people haven’t the gall to tell me,
Or just can’t find the right words.

Ebbles has both.

I admire the blatant honesty when I can get it,
Because when the music is put up for me to face-

They do not arrive in sour notes.

Perhaps I have my confidence and belief issues.

But to be honest I am amazingly happy caring about other people over myself.

This brings me immense joy.
A sense of belonging.
A sense of responsibility.

A sense that I am doing something good-
And that this good helps

Ebbles is mostly right though.

I try to make out people to feel the same way I do.

I forget individuality,
I just merely am taking precautions with myself.

My intentions are not to hurt or offend
And you never quite know how another person will take it.
So I try and remain on the safe side.

It was an honest conversation that had to be dealt with.
I’m glad I did.

I’m happy to hear from the man.

I’m happy to know he’s all right too.

---

 
Staring at my finger,
I am reminded of how much even a tiny papercut can hurt.

And for such a long time.

A week from now I may not even see it.
The blood will clear,
And there will be nothing to have marked its presence.

But for now it remains an inconvenience.

I can’t begin to explain the sleep difficulties I’ve been having.

Inability to close eyes.
Nightmares every morning.

Why now.

I feel so distant.

Too far away.
It’s still too far away.

Too long have I been alone.

I grieve still over the mistakes.

That which has cost me dearly.

I have no answers.
I am in constant wonder of what wrong I have done.

What I keep doing time after time that causes everything presently existent-
To wash away.

It’s too late,
I have more things to do tonight.

I’m sure life will be more interesting tomorrow.

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