The Whole of the Moon

After I killed myself, I went into the bathroom to wash the blood off my mind. Emptiness, which was good. But when I came back to the bedroom, I didn't see a bloody soul lying on the bed. Hands on my neck from behind, and she spun me around and clasped me to her, twin lover, until I couldn't struggle anymore and we were melting again, cold, until she seeped back into me and she was cold, made me collapse on the bed curled into myself sobbing, and I realized that this kind of slow suicide can't work if all the parts of you won't cooperate.
"It's better to kill yourself quickly, get it over with."
"No," I said. "That's stupid. It gets messy and complicated, and you leave too much chaos behind. It's much better not to let the universe know what your doing and take it day by day, letting life bleed out of you slowly. Let things happen as they happen. Eventually Death will catch on and either it'll happen or it won't. But that's stupid too, because when you're dead it's hard to appreciate things like chocolate ice cream and kittens and rainbows."
I have come to realize that no matter how many people I am with or how I feel, I am still alone. I will always be alone. I still won't let people touch me in the places I need to be touched. And they see the walls and they know they can't break them, so they leave me alone and that's even worse. When no one will help you because the only person who can is yourself and you won't because it's a slow, painless suicide and parts of you know it and know it can't be stopped until part of you does die.
I can't kill myself. I always come back. It's frustrating, because there are parts of me that need to die and won't. But how can you kill something that's already dead?
How can you kill something that never lived in the first place?
I think the universe is screwing with me. I think that the gods and the great powers watched my early birth, but I was too strong and stubborn and they could only destroy part of me, part of my brain and part of my soul. The rest just overcompensated and became stronger.
Maybe I don't live for myself. Maybe I live for other people. To give them hope. To give them the light at the end of the darkest tunnel. But then what's left for me? Where is my light when I need it most?
Maybe that's the thing I keep killing and keep resurrecting. Without knowing. Maybe I think I'm killing the parts I don't want, but in truth I need all of them, every part, because they make up the whole, and it's the whole that matters, not the parts.
Maybe I really am the whole of the moon.

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It rains, but not always

I feel better for posting the Waterboys song. "The Whole of the Moon" is, undoubtedly, my and Adam's song. He had me listen to it when we first started dating and he told me, "This is us. It's me to you, and a little bit is you to me."
He makes me feel alive.
He wandered out in the world for years, while I just stayed in my room. He saw the rain-dirty valley, and I saw Brigadoon. I wondered, I guessed and I tried, and he just knew. I was grounded, while he filled the skies.
And he loves me unconditionally, without question, child-like.
I think he saved my life last night and he'll never know.
Just after midnight, it rained. And I remembered that I always get depressed and sleepy before it rains. On those days when I can't keep my eyes open for all the caffeine and amphetamine in the world, it will always rain. Once the rain started my mind and my heart breathed easily.
It made me remember something else that happened just after midnight: The roses. The roses happened almost four years ago. Two days after he and I told each other "I love you" he kept calling and asking me to check for packages. The college had a back room in their mailroom where they kept large packages for students, but I hadn't gotten anything all day. Something fragile, he said.
I went home to my dorm that night and sat talking with him on the phone for three hours. He seemed crushed that I hadn't gotten his gift. Then, fifteen minutes after midnight, there was a knock on my door and the delivery guy handed me the huge crystal vase with a dozen red roses and a single white rose in the center. I burst into tears and told him I loved him (oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god) and then after we hung up I played those three songs over and over--the ones I was listening to two nights before when I finally managed to confess, for the first time ever, that I was in love. "Lucky" by Bif Naked, "Close Your Eyes (Buffy/Angel theme) from the Buffy soundtrack, and "The Whole of the Moon" by the Waterboys.
The memory will always save me.
It may rain, but rain is cleansing, and afterwards there's always the sun, and maybe a rainbow or two.

Scrubbed free.

I just had a long hot shower. KMS Silker shampoo and conditioner. Totally Juicy's Hot Apple Sugar Scrub. Shea butter moisturizer. I feel so clean and silky. I really needed that.

And yet I look at my tiny hands typing, I see the veins like roots criss-crossing just under the skin, and my fingers are bone-like. I look at my face in the mirror, Audrey Hepburn Jennifer Love Hewitt so they say, and there are hollows under my Romanian cheekbones caving in my square jaw. My dark eyes are darker still and huge, my lips look swollen Angelina Jolie and bloodred and maybe it seems beautiful but it looks like the beauty of a fading rose. I press my thumbs into my hipbones and they're right there at the surface smooth and hard should be mounted in the museum of natural history bones. Things are taking shape under my skin; bone and scant muscle and flowing flowering blood. I watch myself grow smaller. I keep thinking I am beautiful, this is enough, I am whole enough, and then the mouth that is hungry when I am not covers mine and I sleep in the back of my mind and wake up in a dream. Maybe I am still dreaming. When will I wake up again?

food for thought...hah...

I'm on a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" mailing list, and someone posted very recent photos of Sarah Michelle Gellar looking less than slender (http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/030803/170/4vbij.html and http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/030803/170/4vba6.html). That started a chain reaction. Okay, I started it. But here's my latest response...thought it might ease my mind to get it all out...
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