inextricable

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inextricable [in·ex·tri·ca·ble / ĭn-ĕk′strĭ-kə-bəl] adjective: what you call the silence in your mind because you just can’t seem to find your way any which way; the response you give people when they ask what’s wrong with you because the silence of your mind looks kind of terrible on you and you need a word that accurately describes that but distracts from your appearance. #LostInTheMatrix

I

 should have called in sick. Jesus. You know how heavy baggage like that can be?  #heavy #overweight #extrabaggagefees #youflyDelta… For the love of shoe sales, save me from this! They say that doing the same thing the same way and expecting a different outcome is insanity. But what if you did it different ways and got the same thing, what’s that called?

I mean, damn man. I took my weave (read: braids) out. Showed you what my naturally chemically processed and colored hair looks like. I went out into nature, terrified of crawly things and rain. I did something new. And I got this. The same damn thing.

An Easter weekend trip out of town. To see this unintelligible guy. And, get a medal because…ain’t no man keeping me from #14in2014, and actually, he kinda likes it too #aintputaringonittho #ormedal. You’re in this silent place in your heart where you know it isn’t any thing, but it feels really right. Really easy. How can someone, a man, feel so right for me, but not for me? At least not now. And why is jet fuel so expensive?

Now. Fix your face. Get your head out of wanderland. Find the baggage claim. You’re here.

You know what I have learned about myself? I’m a pretty decent temporary somebody #Love4Rent #LoveOnLoan. Oh yea. Three to four days, you will have the time of your life. We’ll laugh, we’ll lay around, we’ll love the most random moments, and then we’ll leave. You to your life, and me to longing. Longing for all of it again, but for longer the next time. Like a lifetime. #LetsBeButterflies #KissingSunflowers #ThatNextLifetimeTho

It wasn’t a perfect weekend, but it was really amazing. We danced. We ran. We praised. We ate. And we played. Just about every request was granted – just because. It is only now, what we are in the distant place, that I wonder why. Was it my smile? The inflections in my voice? The oddness of the request? My touch to his shoulder? The excitement in my eyes? I have no idea why he never said No to me. Perhaps it was because I wouldn’t be there forever. So, why not? *shrugs*

While we waited to TapN'Run, he bumped into friends and folks he knew. We would walk around casually, speaking about things that did not matter much, and someone would catch his eye. Everything caught my eye. I get lost in life watching. It’s not just the people, it is all the things all about them. Sale signs, awesome running costumes, shoes, drunk people, storefronts, street, cars…everything. I watch life so much, that I sometimes get lost. You know, lose the group I’m with to get lost in everything around me. I didn’t recognize this as a child, and often ended many family outings. It is only at this age that I am more thoughtful about my misdirection. Without thinking, I reached out for his arm, and wrapped my hand about the crease and elbow. Almost for the dragging, we continued on until the start of the race. He never asked me why. He never seemed perturbed by it, or annoyed by it. He just let it happen. Never spoke of it.

The night before leaving, we had a little fun. Not like the fun we’d been having, but some other kind of fun. You know, grown up, break a sweat, wear you out fun, right? Yup.

Indoor. Trampoline. Park.

I was in that joint like Miss Millie dropping off Miss Sophia off for Christmas. We can stay? Alllll Night?? Oh, just for the time printed on this wristband? Okay. Well at my age, that’s gonna feel like all night. So, let’s get this thing started!

Man, I was out there auditioning for the USA Gymnastics Team. And by auditioning for the team, I was bouncing around in a circle, probably no more than five to six inches high. Having the time of my life. Conversely, my companion was performing his Gold Medal winning routine in the last Olympic Games. Jerk. I mean, he was, it was, man, that dude has skills. And I admired them from afar. In my little corner, away from the kids, feeling awesome.

At the place where some of my dreams became actualized, there was a foam pit. Hanging from the ceiling a rope, swinging to and fro. I watched the brave little darlings (read: ah’neh’mind…I shouldn’t speak ill of children anyway, those adorable little tax deductions) get a running start, grab that rope – some of them with just one hand – and dive into the foam, sinking into the splendor of the soft cubes. I watched with so much eagerness. Then I thought to myself…yea, your health coverage doesn’t cover this. How’sa’bout a hard pass hunnie? You have a flight tomorrow afternoon.

He could see the want in my heart. As did the young man working the ball pit area. I gave them both all the rational excuses, because, well, old age is nothing to play with. I built my monument with my irrational fear of breaking my decades old bones on foam cubes, because that makes total sense. I don’t have a back problem and I’d like to keep it that way. My vertical can be measured by a ten calorie ginger ale can, and I think that you need more air than that to successfully facilitate such a swing. The young man working laughed it off. But him? He was not having any part of that.

Just do it. You know you want to. I don’t think I can. I might hurt myself. Are you being serious right now? You’ll be just fine. Um, okay. Wait no. I shouldn’t. But, maybe? Are you going to come get me when I hurt myself? *laughing a little* Yea, I’ll be right here.

He took a picture of me standing on the podium with the rope in my hand, happily awaiting my demise. I was so nervous. I wanted him there, but then, I thought, Um, maybe I should just not – do I really want him to see me like this? Welp, too late. Yo’scary arse done already told him that you want him here. Might as well show him what that six inch vertical do #notmuch.

I said a quick prayer, smiled for the camera, and took off. I could not have been in the air more than five seconds…because a six inch vertical and a running start that’s the equivalent of walking fast means…you didn’t get too high up. But you got high up enough to fall butt first into a pit of crusty foam cubes. And…you’re drowning. You can’t get out of this pit. Children shorter than you (which also isn’t by much) climbed out of here like there was a staircase, but you my friend, you are sinking deep in the pit. Close to the crusty floor. Barely deep, but sinking still, right down to the pit’s foam floor.

He encouraged me on the way out of the cube pool. Like a coach, he yelled out critiques of my movements and suggested plays. After a few setbacks, I eventually made it to the edge where he stood, extending his hand. The look on his face was easy. Not extremely emotional any particular way. It wasn’t about him knowing that I could do it, or proud that I did. He was just him being in the moment with me, being my witness, the holder of my special moment.

I felt like an exhale.

Then the morning came. He got dressed for work. I packed my bags. He left for work. I organized stuff and watched Oliver Queen. He came home. I prepared my belongings. He carried my bags to the car. I attempted to make my peace with what all this wasn’t. He drove me to the airport. I rode in silence – only speaking in response to inquiry. He parked curbside. I opened my own door. He stood my bags beside me. We kissed.

It stole all the air inside of me.

#fireworks #explosions #activations #sadnesses #allofthesads #kinda

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