little bird

I wish I would be able to say, now things are behind me, I am whole and well and the stars are my comfort. The stars are my comfort, that, at least is true.

In this land of sobriety I am looking at myself and addiction. I am looking at the past and how it tends to claw its way into now. 

I got a call from california justice system yesterday. They found me. If they can find my current number, why didn't they call or contact me before?

It was two years ago, in october. I was driving home from work and ran a red light. The ex was waiting for me to go to the store so I could prepare dinner, so he could eat. I was listing in my head: milk; meat; veggies; I ran a red light. It happened. I was pulled over, ticketed, and left to go to the store. The thing was that I couldn't tell him and as he controlled every minute of my time, I couldn't go to court. I did try, the day was filed incorrectly, it was a saturday. I made a second mistake and didn't take care of it before leaving the state. 

The past came forward. The lady on the phone, you owe a grand. Today. How, is this information only now getting to me? it doesn't matter. I will deal with it as I deal with everything.

I was distraught. I ate my feelings in cookies, milk, cereal. I was on the bus pushing back the flood of memories and emotion that threatened to spill out and onto the dirty rail, cover the raucous teenagers laughing. I remember laughing, I think, biting my lip until I taste iron. 

I am full of holes. I have been burning again. Branding my arm in a circle of hope, I tell myself it is decoration, it is a symbol of recovery. I believe the words and listen to the cars spin tires up the highway.

*** it is six am, I wait for the bus, coffee in hand, wonder if I look like a trick waiting in the lamplight***