Ten Acres of Hyperbole

The discovery that I can listen to Oregon Public Radio over the internet gives my heart pangs. I know those voices, I know that traffic pattern, I know that weather, city block, those shops along Vancouver. It makes me ache for a life I had almost forgotten and I grieve the woman I may have once become yet did not.

I gave up. I quit that life. I fucked all the best things into one big uncomfortable mess just to play with ponies and smoke cigarettes.

The pit is that even though I am lonely, uncertain, uncomfortable, cold, often hungry, I am alive in ways I never knew possible and for that alone I am grateful.

Recognition of what the absolute shit-of-a-friend, lover, partner I had been is freeing. Far from the solace or sorrow or attachment is the giving up and caving in to myself rather than fleeing the reality of my choices.

I need a coffee. I need a smoke. I need to settle my bones.