Deep breaths

That breath that passed between them in the dark has almost completely vanished now. For awhile she tried to hold it in her chest, only allowing for shallow breaths. And he attempted to take breaths few and far between to make the supply last. But eventually both had to exhale and eventually both had to seek a new supply.

She wonders less and less what is floating in his mind, no longer tries to imagine his pocketful of secrets and their implications on the dissolve. After all, he chose to go away before most, if not all, were divulged. He chose no to share, not to risk. He chose something other than her.

When he sees her, he worries less and less that she can still see deep inside him, see what he is hiding, what he is willing to go away. It used to fluctuate between making him uncomfortable and exciting him, and the space between them now relieves the anxiety surrounding the fluctuation.

And finally, only occasionally now, deep asleep he tastes her on his lips and the breath he inhales slowly and deeply is familiar and soft. Similarly, only every so often are her dreams full of his color and vivid enough for her to taste and smell and feel him as she used to.

Yes; there are two breaths now, separate in time, rhythm, and most of all space.

To lavender, and coolness, and waking up

I slipped and fell – or maybe I was pushed – it’s a blur, but the coma that resulted was unexpected and inexplicable. The rich purple haze that engulfed me in my slumber is beginning to lighten to lavender though; and things seem to glow in this different – new – hue. Things I want are highlighted; things I don’t are noted. My thoughts are still occupied even in my awakening, but continue to be less and less intensely occupied, and they are clearer and cooler in some sense. Not cold – I doubt they ever will be cold; they simply no longer burn to the touch. And I find myself grateful to no longer worry about getting burned.

To lavender, and coolness, and waking up.

Things I learned in 2010

(a continuation of 2006, 2007, 2008, and 2009)

Patience, not absence, makes the heart grow fonder.

Saying goodbye to a loved one doesn't get any easier no matter their age.

Stability is comforting.

There's just some things you shouldn't bring up.

Older is better.

Ray LaMontagne in person is even more amazing than he is on his albums.

It's ok to cry (sob even) when your heart is broken.

Even at 30, being a grownup isn't easy.

One bedroom apartment living is the way to go.

If something seems different, it probably is.

It's ok to be attracted to a serial killer, as long as he only kills bad people... on tv... and is named Dexter.

Uptown Espresso makes THE best latte.

If it hasn't happened by now, it's very unlikely that it will; accept it and move on.

I'd totally go on a cruise again.

Sometimes you just have to let people make mistakes.

This really is the last time.

I have enough positive people in my life that I don't need to mourn the disappearance of the unkind and flat-out disrespectful ones.

Hard work and persistence pays off... most of the time.

Discovering you are allergic to hops can make Oktoberfest a bit anticlimactic.

I am worth the risk.

I need a real summer with real sun and real warmth.

Ugh, you're right: its not all about me all the time.

Women are way better at figuring out the logistics than men.

There's nothing quite like being with Mom and Dad on Christmas.

30 is scary but once you get there it's ok.

Don't go

Playing witness to a dissolving relationship is never easy. Especially when you are equally invested in both parties, and have for so long loved the sum of the parts sometimes more often than the parts alone. As an outsider you can’t help but wonder if each side just gave a little more leeway - a little more grace, a little more love – that the union might survive the torrential dissolve that is on the brink. But having at some point been an insider of such a situation yourself, you also know that at the point right before the big separation, it’s obvious that even with leeway, grace, and love it’s nearly impossible. One side is so badly scorched by the opposite’s actions (or inaction, in some cases), and the other side has perfected distance as a coping mechanism for the frustration, hurt, and disappointment. Both are to blame, and neither apologize, and each has become apathetic.

One could argue that it’s the most tumultuous relationships that are the most passionate, energizing, and inspiring; that it’s that passion, energy, and inspiration that takes a small tear in the skin to the next level of gaping wound. The relationship from the outside seem so perfect and syncopated, so enigmatic and enviable.

I am a witness; I am an outsider; and, I am torn – shredded even – by the state that this rapidly dissolving union is in. Alone each member is good; but together they are great. There is passion; there is love; there is rhythm; and there is harmony. And I can't imagine anything similar without the current cohesiveness. And so I hold out hope, that something will change - that many things will change - and instead of dissolving away, this tie will start strengthening and growing again in the direction it once did.

Summer - really?

So, supposedly summer has arrived in Seattle. That is, if you can call 65 and sunny "summer." It wouldn't be so bad, I guess if 1) last summer wasn't so perfect, and 2) if this didn't make me miss life in Hawaii so damn much. Oh, the 80 degrees, wearing a swimsuit every day (just in case you have an hour to spare on the beach), the constantly being outside. I'm missing all of it like crazy lately.

To be fair, it is breaking 70 here... occasionally. Maybe twice a week. Maybe. But it's July. I had to have soup yesterday to warm up at work. No joke.

In other news, I'm still loving PATH. Its just been such a good experience. And while I realize that the bar was super low after working in Hell, I still couldn't be happier with how its gone so far. Hard to believe its been almost 2 years. The remnants of working with Mr. and Mrs. Crazy are almost gone: most of the hair has grown back, no sign of hives since, haven't had a bloody nose in 18 months, and I'm sleeping a solid 8 hours on a regular basis. It remains to be by far the most abusive situation I've ever been in (which, I guess is a good thing, when I look at it that way!).

I'm headed to Westport this weekend to camp with Team Klaja. I'm super excited, as Kaimana can attest to. After saying how excited I was a couple of times (okay maybe more than a couple) last night, he started saying "Auntie Yaya excited!" Pretty much made me melt.

Speaking of which - I better go change laundry and continue packing. Tomorrow is supposed to be one of those 70+ days and in order to take advantage of its rarity - we're headed to Golden Gardens in the evening, so I'll have no time to pack.

I'm hoping to get back into the habit of writing more, so we'll see.....