how to get through the winter
i wrote this earlier this winter. it's not winter anymore, it's 92*, but what the hell
every time i leave her apartment at night i feel this way. i walk past a couple stumbling through their first few kisses. middle aged, their eyes are closed, they don’t even see me. i slide up real close passing them, it’s just them and me out here on the sidewalk in little italy at 11:30pm, they never open their eyes. i am jealous of them and i am not.
i pass a guy in a ski mask. i am on a cocktail of wearing-off mild intoxicants to get me through my hour-long commute home, i can’t spend the night because my bike is still locked up at the myrtyle-wyckoff train station and i don’t want to risk it getting stolen again, i have work early in the morning, i want to take a shower and sleep in my own bed. i am afraid to see him again because what if i don’t feel the same way that i did? what if i do. which is more desirable, more uncomfortable, which do i want? i can’t tell.
i pass a group of teenagers with skateboards carving something into the subway pillars at canal, on the broad st. side, they’re clustered up at the end of the platform. i smile at them to let them know i’m not a threat, i approve of their business.
in the morning at work, i think about inviting him over later when i get home. but then instead i think i’ll read susan sontag’s on photography. i think i’ll watch girlfriends (1978). i think i’ll finish collaging that mannequin torso that’s been leaning against my wall since august and finally hang it up above my bed.
i lose my favorite purse and i make a list of everything i lost: driver’s license, debit card, queens manhattan and brooklyn library cards, student ID, an old credit card, le labo perfume sample, half a gram of freshly bought ketamine, sentimentally valuable red velcro wallet, ebt card, sd card with half the footage i shot at my aunt’s wedding.
space protects me. not drinking protects me. i am sad tonight. my current crushtomer walks past the cafe today looking in but he doesn’t see me. i will talk to him more next time. not be so nervous.
i thought maybe we could have an early dinner, or a youngun i overhear two people leaving their office building together. who knows what their relationship is to each other, what it will become, or fail to become.
i watch girlfriends (1978) and it’s very good. i think about it all week.
i listen to big thief’s love love love and it doesn’t hit the same. i’m not breaking up or trying to break up with anyone anymore, it is a peculiar pleasure and indescribably difficult feeling to be a part of, and i miss it sometimes. just the feeling, not the specifics. i miss feeling a part of something big like that, even if it wasn’t real.
my favorite thing about visiting home is being a baby. staying up too late and sleeping in too late and feeling an intense shame about it the next day but doing absolutely nothing to change my behaviour. i’ll stop doing this one day, but not this thanksgiving.
at the dentist i think: i like giving myself over to them. after the numbing injections with the big needle, i hate those. i like feeling vulnerable and in their control, at the mercy of their hand-eye-coordination. have you done your grocery shopping yet? the dentist asks the hygienist over my open mouth. i close my eyes and hold my hands across my chest like i’m laying in a tomb. before, she gives me the remote to choose what to play on the tv, normally they just go with whatever’s already playing, i’ve never been given this power before. i pick a dolphin documentary, listen to their noises while they suck out the saliva pooling under my tongue.
it was really doughy too - a croissant donut, not a donut. they discuss the doughnuts someone brought into the office today as a treat. maybe that’s because it’s old.
in the DFW security line on the way home i get called mami, angel, and mama. it’s all platonic. have a safe flight mama i like this guy’s voice the best, it makes me smile. feel safe and loved and exactly how i imagine a woman should feel in the world.
on the plane she starts typing my heart is full and then erases it to type i am leaving with 5lbs more of love to caption her ig story in the row ahead of me. the hot boy next to me with a cold sniffling into his sleeves who i’m busy ignoring gets reseated into the back row where there’s more space right before we lift off, before i even get the chance to work up the courage to talk to him at all, it’s for the best.
the lights go down and we start our long and anticlimactic journey across the runway and like clockwork here it comes. the empty feeling. i didn’t speak a word to him but i miss it still, the presence of a body breathing a little too close to me. there is just an empty space beside me now. i think: this is what rich people must feel. the dilemma of the affluent. more money equals more personal space equals more distance from your fellow humanity. how to fix it, how to deal with the lack.
i’m listening to love on the brain by rihanna but it isn’t quite what i’m looking for in a take-off song. instead i go with the song he showed me. i haven’t overplayed it yet and it still feels warm and close to my heart, i don’t get this feeling often (define often? i won’t). i treasure it. i wish i had chosen a better snack.
while the safety instructions are going on i am busy disassembling my fridays to go club turkey sandwich with my fingers. scrape the wet lettuce off the bread try and salvage half the amount of turkey. feel tears start to pool in the corners of my eyes because love is not the answer, i know that now. it doesn’t matter if i’m in it, there is so much more to be done. i take a bite of my sandwich and they disappear on their own. my blood sugar was low.
how to get through the winter: learn how to make soups. smoke weed. watch all those art house films u’ve been wanting to watch. film things and edit them together without worrying about how they look from anybody’s perspective other than your own. talk to people and have conversations without trying to figure out if they want to fuck you. do as many drugs as you want, as long as you’re not disassociating or wallowing. talk to your parents on the phone. get outside and move your body. bike. go to the community yoga classes, they’re free. don’t take out your personal frustrations on your roommates just because they are there. don’t overextend yourself, think hard before you commit to any plans, be vague in your commitment whenever possible.
don’t let any feeling linger for too long, give it its space but then let it float away. be careful when you drink, notice when it makes you sad when it makes you ache more than necessary. don’t smoke too many cigarettes. never vape. don’t eat too much meat, you don’t like it, trust yourself. don’t kiss or fuck or hold hands with anyone you don’t really want to. figure out how to tell when you really want to.
lay on the floor sometimes. light the candles, you can buy more tomorrow, they’re not expensive. only 1 or 2 ubers a month, it’s not worth the expense. don’t forget your scarf, your gloves, your headphones, your bike lights. sit in the hot shower and let the steam wash over you. cancel on plans as much as you want but don’t take people for granted. tell people when you miss them, if you are certain that is what you’re feeling. i think you can tell the difference now.
make time for what matters to you, i mean it. when something doesn’t go the way you want it to, tell yourself the universe is protecting you. it knows something you don’t. wish everybody else well, don’t collect anger or malice when it’s unnecessary. learn your lesson.
