shit-rambles

[shit-rambles]

Is it such an important question?

“It happened on the couch in our living room. After another rough day, after another breakdown unseen, after wanting to give up again, and pushing myself further. I was exhausted and I just wanted the warmth that physical contact can bring. So, I hugged them. I climbed into their lap and clung to them. They held me back, kissed my forehead, ‘It will all be ok.’ 

They knew that I was upset, but it never feels like they truly grasp why, not then, not now. Still, I held them tighter ‘Yeah. I know.’ 

I didn’t really want to talk, talking to others never really helps. This battle between myself and the dark parts of my being can only be won by me. They shifted uncomfortably underneath me, I pulled away, ‘sorry.’ They were still holding onto me when they looked me in the eyes, ‘It’s ok, I am here for you.’ As they pulled me back into their snug embrace, I could feel that they were tense. ‘Do you feel safe with me?’ 

I felt my body clam up. Did I feel safe with them? My immediate response was no, but I did not think I can tell them that. It’s not that I felt like i was in danger because of them, it’s not that they would do anything to intentionally harm me. No, I know that they wouldn’t. I just don’t feel safe anywhere with anyone. I hadn’t felt safe since I was a little girl, picking flowers in my front lawn, the family dog wandering around with me. Since I was six and cuddled in my mother’s arms, unaware of the problems I would have, the problems the world would have. I haven’t felt safe for so long, I doubt I ever will again. I knew the answer they wanted, but I struggled with whether or not to give it to them. To please them, or to risk hurting them more than I ever wanted. I had paused for too long. ‘S-safe? In general?’

 My throat was tight, the words came out as some sort of excuse to explain why I hadn’t answered. ‘Well.. yeah, I guess. Do I make you feel like your protected when you’re with me, like this.’ 

My head buried in their neck and my eyes were closed, ‘Yes. Yeah, of course.’

  I lied. They held me tighter, again. ‘Good.’ 

I know partners want to be good to their lovers. I know they want to make their people feel at ease, I know they want them to feel safe. I wish I had answered more honestly, or maybe, I wish that my answer was my honest feeling. Now I only feel guilt, as though I am stringing along this wonderful being falsely. Is it really such an important question anyway?”

[shit-rambles]

Life

Life started for me as a small little thing, barely visible but fully alive. I grow quickly because so much energy is devoted into making me mature alongside my brethren, attached alternatingly to our posts. My life is valued, but also expendable. I know this because I am the least important within my family even though I can do many things, like convert the light from our god to energy; or help protect my home from the dangers of rain or snow. I can also synthesize food, and transfer water throughout my circle.

There are many of us, some exactly the same, some are different, but we all come from the strong roots of our mother. The most important of us have one goal: to reach out to those far and wide, to make contact, to find love, to start a new family system. They strive to find that special connection with another, outside of our own home. We have been living this way for generations upon generations, and it seems to work well for us. Other families will take a different approach to reaching the same goal: survival and succession. My family prefers the soft and open approach, we try to look friendly and inviting and we make sure our home has the best colors and fragrance. The future mothers or fathers within our monoecious being like to invite friends over, who have far more freedom, like flight, or the ability to crawl far and wide. They do this during the warm but not too hot months by opening themselves, and letting their sweet perfume attract the buzzing ones, or other allies to them. These familiars will help us by transporting fragments of our chosen members so that reproduction can occur. This never happens for me though, I am simply one of the ones who watch and nurture. It is so exciting when one from my tribe has their egg fertilized. To watch their ovary grow, bigger and bigger in order to protect their young and supply them with nutrients to last; it is a joyous time… and when they are ready, they will fall. Sometimes we like to take bets on who will fall the furthest away, who has a better chance at starting a new family of their own. Other times we ask for help from the humans, to take our ripe unborn, and disperse them far so that they may see a new world, and hopefully sprout to find a life filled with more and more children from their seed, our seed.

After this, a certain time will come, where the beautiful ones are all tired from looking for love, looking for a new start, looking to grow. While those like me begin to lose our energy. As that time approaches, I will be one of the ones first to go. I must, in order to protect my family. As the weather becomes frigid, and the days much shorter, I feel my life begin to fade. I only hope I have served my purpose, and that my replacement will be as useful, if not more than I have been. I watch some elegantly fall before me, taking their last breaths. Soon I feel that my being too begins to let go, and I gently float and twirl to the bottom of our home. As I reach the end my memories begin to fade. Although I am dying I am happy that for once, I too, can be pretty and inviting, as I have changed color in my age. As I touch the ground and look up at my almost bare mother, I can feel the earth vibrate rhythmically like a march. It is finally my time, to be someone else’s joy as the sky above me goes out of view, it is replaced by the mucky grey sole of a small shoe. I am thankful for my life, I think, and as I am about to take my last breath, the foot collapses atop of me, and I end with a satisfying Crunch. —-

“My moma is taking me to the park today,” said Sherly, bragging to her friends with a prideful smile cracked on her face. She was on the playground, children running everywhere and a few adults keeping watching, fanny packs attached to their abdomens filled with band-aids and other first aid materials. “She said that, ‘Erly was a good girl this week, and so she gets a treat’ and I picked the park.” The other two small children playing with Sherly on the gym bars both smiled back at her. Emme, the smaller of the three, squeaked, “That’s gonna be fun Erly, I wish I was gonna go to the park today. They have swings at the park.” She did a little backward flip and landed on her feet perfectly, not surprising for the very young gymnast.

Nicoli, too afraid to actually flip on the bars sat across from Sherly and said he was going to go to the park too. Fibber. Sherly thought. He hardly ever was honest, and always complained that he never got to go anywhere, and so Sherly decided to never believe anything Nicoli said. They continued to flip and balance on the two parallel bars for a few more minutes in the bright, but cool autumn morning before the yard ladies called for the children to come back inside.

Life of a kindergartener was hard, they practiced their ABC’s, counted all the way to fifty, and worked on sounding out words. Tomorrow they were going to have to do it all over again, and Sherly got tired just thinking about it. Even though she only had to go for half days. She’d prefer to stay at home everyday and watch TV and be with her mother, like it was the year before. Once they returned to the classroom and the teachers did a headcount to make sure they were all inside and safe, it was time for snack. Each child got a juice box and a granola bar; courtesy of Jack, a small tan boy with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. The children took turns on bringing snack to class. The granola bars with chocolate chips were Sherly’s favorite, not just because she thought they were tasty, but because Emme hated them and always gave her share to Sherly. In fact, when it was Sherly’s turn to bring snacks, she would always pick the chocolate chip granola bars. Sometimes the small child would have to beg her mother to buy them and swear they were the class favorites, just so she could get two in one day. Now and then she felt bad, but Emme confessed that she didn’t eat a lot anyway. At her house she got in trouble for not eating her food, but Emme would argue, ‘if I’m not hungee, I’m not hungee.’

The children took a nap after snack time on little blue padded mats. They got to bring their own blanket and one favorite stuffed animal, but it had to be small. Sherly’s favorite was her plush turtle Tommy. She named it Tommy after her baby brother that she was impatiently waiting for, and expected him in a short four months. She was excited to be an older sister, and had decided that once the baby was born she was going to be super nice and caring, unlike her older brother who was mean and vicious. Luckily she wouldn’t have to endure his torture much longer, as he was getting ready to leave for, “College,” her mother had explained.

After nap time was over and the children were gently woken up, and were eager to see their parents waiting for them in the hall through the classroom window. Sherly could see her mother’s fiery curly hair instantly in the mass of adults waddling through the door, and became absolutely thrilled just thinking about their park date. Sherly was checked out of the classroom and her mother helped her pack her things. Hand in hand they walked out of the building to the parking lot, Sherly skipping alongside her mother and taking peeks at her swollen belly. After opening the car door, Sherly’s mom helped her into the booster seat and strapped her in nice and safe. She kissed Sherly’s forehead and smiled, revealing her pretty white teeth and crinkling her freckled nose. Sherly thought her mother was the prettiest of all the other mommies and girls she’s seen, and wished she looked more like her. Everyone always said Sherly looked just like her father. Flat brown hair, brown eyes, slightly tanner skin than her mother’s. With everything packed in, and both buckled and ready to go, they started their drive to the park. “So, what did you do today in school, Erly?” Her mother asked, sneaking a peek at her baby girl from the rear-view mirror, eyes twinkling with such pride that she made yet another beautiful child. “We counted numbers and practice our A,B,C’s. I did them all the way through today Moma, because we practiced at home!”

“Good job sweetheart. Yaaay!”

It was a quick drive to the park. All the trees in the park were beautiful and vibrant in color. Patches of reds, yellows, oranges and some multi-colored leaves were covering the branches. Some even had some green patches in them still. Sherly couldn’t think of a place she would rather be than at the park especially on days like these. When she gets to go play outside near lots of trees. She just wanted to jump on all of the crunchy leaves she could find and it was never too hot or too cold this time of year. She even thought it was interesting the the pine trees always looked the same, and asked her mother why they didn’t change color, but her mother didn’t know the answer.

When they finally found a parking spot Sherly unbuckled herself, bouncing in her seat ready to jump out of the car and just run. Once out and free, she took off toward the sidewalk, headed for the entrance of the grand park while her mother yelled for her to stay in sight and to be careful. Sherly giggled and slowed down a little, inspecting the ground for her first leaf to stomp on. She found the perfect leaf, right to the side of the walkway, in the middle of the road. It must have come from the large cherry tree just in front of the park entrance from the street. As she took a leap off the sidewalk to trample the leaf, she heard her mother shriek her name. As she looked up toward her beloved moma, now running toward Sherly and clutching her stomach, the small girl heard the deafening screech of a breaking car. Crunch.