May 14, 2014
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It was around 11PM.
And the night was old yet young all at the same time. And at the same time, we had no real sense of “time” to begin with. The leftovers were put away. The drinks had been barely touched. Those who had work finished them. It was like every other night we spend together, though this one did have a special purpose which I won’t disclose here. Still, a primary reason was to spend time together. The boys were in the living room playing video games, with one on the piano jamming all night. The girls were in the kitchen painting, with one sitting on the counter writing her life away. It was a night like any other night but that didn’t make it any less special than the last.
No matter the routine or repetition, each visit has a new revelation, a newer and stronger sense of belonging, and a brighter smile — as if we were seeing each other again for the first time. Yet at the same time, a sense of familiarity because we make it a point to come together every week. I could rest, assured that my family wasn’t going anywhere.
After weeks of losing my sense of love, my sense of belonging and my sense of reality; I’m here gathering myself and trying to find my footing and my sense of stability. All after a short-long weekend of people inadvertently reminding me that they don’t quite mind having me there and that my touches of assistance don’t go unnoticed.
I’m giving it all time, knowing I won’t quite have myself all together until the summer. I’m beginning a new step, a new and private journey that I won’t talk about until maybe June. Several, actually, but there’s one in particular that I know will help greatly and push me into doing what I need.
I’ve not much more to say at the moment, other than I’m ready to stop wasting time. I just need a little lot of help getting there. And hopefully, it won’t go untouched by my family.
Z.
