Tag: men

Not a kiss whore

“I’m not a kiss whore…”

Laughter…, “Whatever – it seems like every time you go, you kiss someone(!).”

“Yeah: all two times, I kissed one person each time.”

Both laugh, totally tickled.

(Recall last week’s adventure.)

……….

This was near the end of my conversation tonight with my mom.

I had been telling her about my day at the Texas Renaissance Festival (RenFest) with a semi-friend today (we worked together briefly, and have always gotten along and talked forever whenever our paths have crossed), and had just shared with her the most delightful part of the day for me.

You see, a long while back, perhaps two years ago – long being relative, obviously – I met someone who really attracted me while at RenFest.

It wasn’t so much sexual attraction – I want to date you attraction – as it was simply attraction – I want to be around you attraction.

He had mentioned specifically about a possibility of our becoming friends, if I would like, and I agreed, and we met up to pursue this… so I thought, anyway.

And, when he received multiple calls in a row, and I encouraged him to take the call, and he answered with, “What’s up? I’m on a date,” I chuckled at his obvious use of the term in order to get the person to hurry up and leave him alone.

At the end, when he asked if it were okay to kiss me, therefore, I was thrown – and I mean really thrown… I denied the request, and then felt really uncomfortable and mean and a bit weird… and for a while… I felt justified in giving my honest answer that I did not feel comfortable kissing him or letting him kiss me, but I still felt weird and, somehow, bad for the following year or so, give or take, off and on.

(See my comment about the meeting here, embedded within a conversation with someone else.)

He came to mind somewhat often, though we only swapped messages a handful of times again.

I thought of him whenever I was going to or at RenFest, but somehow missed him – whether by accidental forgetfulness or intentional avoidance (my own, I mean), I am not entirely sure.

But I didn’t see him again.

That is, I didn’t see him again until today.

Remember how I have had this whole beautiful transformation happening within and without me this past year+.

Well, that gave me a whole new experience of the idea of this guy when I considered him today.

Suddenly, it was clear to me that I wanted specifically to go talk to him, to clarify with him what had happened for me back on that date I hadn’t known to be a date, to find out how and a little bit of what he was doing now – still the art, and, of so, what? – and to request and to receive a kiss from him.

Perhaps the kiss last week ha some revved up, but I truly believe that it at least made things clear for me in a way they had never been before: a kiss was a kiss, and it is okay to want to kiss someone.

And it is okay to want not to kiss someone.

(And, of course, not to want to kiss someone is okay, too!)

Who I am now wanted to kiss him.

Who I was two years ago couldn’t and didn’t want to kiss him then.

I wasn’t certain about the kiss today until I started talking with him, but I was at about 90% certainty before I even saw him.

I just couldn’t seem to stop smiling while talking with him – I almost felt like my cheeks were growing red with the constant huge smiling I was doing.

(Fortunately, my teeth look amazing now, thanks to my invisible aligners from Smile Direct Club, and I smile almost all the time now, anyway.)

I wanted to complete that circle of events from our afternoon spent together… and I also wanted to kiss this man for the sake of kissing him.

And so, as we were nearing the end of our conversation, and I was letting him know that I’d bring him omiyage from my upcoming Japan trip, and we could meet up in January, I had a final analysis of the question and determined wholeheartedly that I wanted it: “Could I have a kiss?” I asked.

I had already told him all about our unknown date and my thoughts at the end, and he had assured me that he was not offended and that all was well, and so, ‘Of course,’ was his reply to my single additional comment regarding ‘making up for before’.

And he stepped and leaned forward toward me, and we kissed(!).

Hard and whole, and 100% consensual on both sides.

And I almost felt like giggling with laughter in delight at both the fun of and the absurdity of the situation, as well as the fact that I JUST KISSED A BOY!!!! AND I LIKED IT!!!

(Thanks, Katy Perry.)

I smiled gargantuously* (yet again), reiterated my plans to reach out and on omiyage, and wished him farewell, and then he wished me the same.

It was lovely.

And I couldn’t seem to stop smoking for quite a while afterward.

He had offered to me to try out being friends again, and also offered a date again, if I were interested.

I told him that I’d think about the date part, but that the friend go was a definite.

And I felt amazingly self-expressed and confident in myself on more levels than I could count and identify.

Yes, it was lovely.

I have come so far.

It is amazing.

I am amazing.

But I am still not a kiss whore, just FYI.

Post-a-day 2019

Why so blissful…?

Last night, I even slept quite blissfully – I didn’t wake up until well after seven this morning… not even to use the bathroom.

That’s kind of a big deal.

Anyway, so why was I so blissful and confident last night, going to bed?

Well, because of our lovely time at RenFest yesterday.

I told my mom a few months back that I wanted finally to take advantage of my age, and to wear an outfit for RenFest that showed a little (meaning a lot) more skin than I had always been accustomed to showing.

In essence, I wanted to share the beauty of my body with the world, I told her.

And so we strategized a bit, and planned out an outfit for me.

And then, due to her lack of making time for it, our plan changed entirely, I ended up buying some leather skins from a leather place – she did help me find them and pick them out – and then I made the outfit myself.

However, I very clearly told her that she needed to handle the cloak part, and so, very begrudgingly at first, she did.

And the outfit turned out great.

I even messed up entirely by using the top piece for the skirt, and so had to recreate the top out of a totally different piece of leather than originally intended (and planned out).

But, when I saw myself at RenFest, in one of their glorious massive bathroom mirrors, I discovered that I actually looked really cool.

I wanted people to see me and to think, “…Wow…”

As for myself, anyway, that’s exactly how I felt, seeing myself in the mirror in my outfit.

And so I smiled a lot, and was proud of myself for being comfortable in such an outfit, and delighted by my confidence.

Also, I took pictures with people and was in photos for people…, and was happy about it.

I overheard one girl saying quietly but fervently to her boyfriend, “I want that outfit,” indicating subtly me.

At one point, one of the workers thought I was a worker/actor, my outfit was so well done and worn… and that is cool (to me, anyway).

So, that was one part of the day.

Outfit shown here:

The second of the three main parts of my blissful confidence is connected to my outfit, though a different approach to the outfit: It is my gratitude for and acknowledgement of how far I have improved and developed mentally, emotionally, and even psychologically regarding my body in the past year.

When I had that conversation with my best friend just over a year ago, the one in which I let go (finally) the rest of what had been holding me back regarding some rough and tough and rather terrible past events in my life, I knew that, at long last, things were going to transform for me in terms of my relationship with my body, and my body’s relationship with the world.

Yesterday, I saw – actually, it was mostly last night, when I was reflecting on the day that I noticed the whole of it, including the part where I had been so comfortable during the day, I had hardly noticed that this was a new and formerly-terrifying-and-impossible scenario for me – how huge this was, how these two relationships had truly transformed over this past year.

And it brings me practically to tears every time I become present to that fact again… I finally am getting to be the woman I have wanted to be, body, confidence, love, and all.

(Okay, so I don’t have the partner yet, but I am being the person I want to be, even without him, and that’s a darn good start!) 😉

Now, the third thing is something that branches off of the first two: because of my transformation and because of my awesome outfit, I was ready and able to admit my goal and to embrace it when it presented itself to me.

I have always wanted a kiss card, ever since I first learned of them at RenFest.

It is a simple paper business-card-like card that reads, “One free kids from any willing man, woman, or beast”.

I have remembered that ever since I first read one of the cards.

Yesterday, near the morning, I admitted to myself, “I really would like to get one of those cards today,” meaning the kiss card, of course.

And I left it in the air around me, and offered the World to present an opportunity to me, if it saw fit to do so.

I then forgot about the kiss card for the majority of the day.

That is until, just after sunset, my mom and I were heading up one row on the far side of the property, aiming to check out that set of shops before heading home.

Just as my mom is beginning to turn her gait to a shop we were already passing but that had suddenly caught her eye, I heard up ahead, someone coming towards us, announcing rather loudly, “Free kiss to any willing man, woman, or beast!”

With almost no hesitation whatsoever, I told my mom that I’d be right back, and I headed toward the voice of this yet to be seen individual.

As he came finally into view – remember that it is dark, since the sun has set, and so only a few feet ahead are visible at any time, thanks to the lights coming from the insides of shops – I asked, “Are you offering or asking?”

(Meaning, is he offering a card for someone simply to take, or is he wanting to cash in his card and receive a kiss?)

We both came to a halt, facing one another.

“Either,” he says, after a few moments of consideration.

I consider.

A man across the way announces to the guy and me that he thinks they have a taker (of the kiss offer, that is).

We turn back to one another.

“Either way, I accept,” I say, nervous with excitement, but calm and at ease as a whole, smiling calmly.

“Okay…, So?” he says in response, and raises his eyebrows and lifts his hands to the side, asking clearly which one I would like to select – he is allowing me to choose if I simply want the card, or if I want to accept the request of a kiss, and we both know this.

“The kiss, then,” I say, after full consideration and acknowledgment of the fact that this is what I genuinely want – to kiss this stranger.

He smiles, “On the cheek or on the lips,” he half says half questions.

Momentary pause… I shrug to my left shoulder, “Lips is good… on the lips,” I declare.

“Okay,” and he steps toward me, as I step toward him.

He is taller than I.

He also is younger than I.

But neither is a concern – just something I have noticed.

He leans down slightly and places his right hand behind my head – an unexpected gesture of intimacy – and we kiss.

As I felt the pressure of his lips and teeth against my own, I felt the same sort of feeling of positivity running through my body as I feel with hugs – I wondered in that moment if the brain reacted similarly to this lip pressure as it does to our chest pressure from hugs… happy hormones releasing and spreading in the body, taking care of the body in their own unique way.

As we comfortably step away again from one another, he hands me the card in ‘payment’, I thank him, and we both smile, before heading on our ways.

I Got my card – and I Earned it!

I find my mom in the shop that had grabbed her attention – an amazing shop with handmade instruments of many sorts, and feel my delight increasing…

That kiss was exactly what I had wanted… this was yet another of my life dreams-turned-goals come true.

It was only a dream at first – I longed to be a woman who would kiss a stranger like this, in a friendly and fun way…, but I didn’t really expect I ever could be that kind of person.

Yet, as I have developed over this past year, I have grown to be so comfortable with my body and my womanhood that I not only could accept such an offer, but that I was willing and able to seek it out.

Sure, he was offering the kiss, but I was the one who went out of my way to go ask him about it and accept it and embrace it.

And I could have just taken the card for myself, with no kiss – he allowed the option for me.

And I could have accepted giving a kiss on the cheek, if I’d wanted to be fair for the card, while still keeping myself safe (I think that’s what the concern had been in the past: safety in preservation and avoidance).

But I looked at it fully, honestly, and openly, and I saw very clearly that I wanted to kiss this stranger, and that I wanted to have the card for having earned it, not for having played one of the games and been given the card as my consolation prize (which is how people typically obtain them in the first place).

I wanted both parts of that, and the former much more than the latter.

So, with mutual agreement and desire determined clearly, I kissed him.

And I am incredibly grateful to myself for having not only been able to do it, but also for having done it.

Go, you, banana!

It was great.

🙂

And many people probably would have had no issue with such a situation, but it was big for me, because I was never one for such things – I don’t kiss people who aren’t family almost ever… I have only had one boyfriend, and only a small handful of non-family people I’ve kissed… it just hasn’t been a thing in my life.

I love physical contact, I love holding hands (even with friends and little kids, not necessarily with a boyfriend), and I love hugs…, but always and only from people I love and trust.

Otherwise, it has kind of turned out that I need to be not touched at all by the rest of the world (a fact of which I was not entirely conscious until my aunt commented on it a few years back, “As long as nobody touches you, you’re fine,” at which point I began to give much consideration to the matter.).

So, for someone to be allowed to touch me is kind of a big deal.

And for me to be willing to allow someone to kiss me is even bigger.

Even if it is just a single kiss on the lips.

🙂

Going to bed last night, this third point was what mostly was on my mind.

However, it was in gratitude and in celebration that I considered it, knowing how my development this past year was what allowed me to grab such an opportunity, as well as for me to be open to and even desiring such an opportunity.

Thank you… I am so proud of you… you are beautiful and amazing…

🙂

Post-a-day 2019

Fear

Tonight, I had a conversation that I was worried about having – I was afraid of it, and I didn’t know how to have it, and I was afraid of it bringing forth shame for myself regarding past events (although I am not ashamed of them anymore, it felt like this conversation could bring back those upsetting thoughts of shame)…

And I knew the conversation would be best had, and not left milling in my mind, making me ever the more uncomfortable, eventually to be come ‘comfortable’ by familiarity with the discomfort…

And so I had the conversation.

I was honest and open, and I shared how I wasn’t sure what I needed out of the conversation, other than merely having it, and how I wasn’t sure what would be best to do about the concern I had/have, and that I was afraid to have the conversation, but knew it was best had and not left quiet – staying quiet and convincing myself that I was overreacting was what got me into trouble with the last stuff in the first place…

And the conversation went really well.

We don’t yet know what all is best to be done about the concern I had/have, but we have come up with a start.

And that feels good.

And it feels good that it is a “we” working on the matter, and not just a nervous “I”.

I am so grateful.

I told my cousin that this is a week about trusting oneself, and tonight’s conversation was just another one of those amazing moments of how beautiful it is when we trust ourselves truly.

Gratitude.

🙂

Post-a-day 2019

Sioux living

I watched the film “Dances with Wolves” tonight for the first time.

It stressed me out a lot.

It was a really, really well done film…. really…

Kevin Costner is adorably handsome in it.

It hurts my heart that people like the “white men” in the beginning and end still exist today – they are the kinds of people who give me stress whenever I cross them, for I cannot understand their misplaced, narrow viewpoint of the world… and I do not yet know what to do about it – I know something must be done about it, however, if we are to survive as a people on this planet.

Anyway… it is a beautifully done film, and it is very much worth watching… I am glad I finally saw it as an adult, for I think it would have been perceived extremely differently by me as a child, and I want to have had this experience, as an adult watching it for the first time.

And the soundtrack is spectacular, totally worth hearing.

Give it a watch (and listen).

And then, just because it is related through the director and main actor of the film, go look up some of Kevin Costner’s music – he has a band, and they perform together, and the music is wonderful… that man had spirit worth sharing with the world, and I am grateful that he shares it with us.

Post-a-day 2019

We Are People First

Sometimes, it is important just to remember that, as my stepfather has always said, we are people first.

Above everything else and before everything else, we are all people.

Whenever I forget this fact, I get stuck in my head, I grow nervous, and I even panic at times… I become afraid of not being wanted or loved, and define any form of rejection as a direct statement of my un-lovability (which, I know, is false, but which still manages to put in a word here and there in my mind, and will share as often as I’ll let it).

But, when I remember that we are all just people, I remember that it is okay to talk to one another, to say what I want to say… I can offer my help, I can ask questions, I can be interested in the lives of others and in being a part of them… I can do all of this, and, even when I am rejected, I can be bummed briefly, before accepting that it’s really okay – this particular situation just wasn’t meant to go the way I had hoped it would go, and, now, something even better is somewhere on the way.

🙂

This weekend, I was rejected.

And it was okay.

Today, however, I was not rejected, but rather accepted.

I believe letting go of my fear and just talking allowed for me to be at ease and for things to flow comfortably.

Yeah…, it went well. 🙂

And, through it all – this weekend and today – I remained true to myself, which, next to being open with one another, is the most important part of it all.

Yeah 🙂

So, yay, me!

Haha 😛

P.S. The potential drama referenced yesterday is still not handled – though, God did give me a bit of a funny, ironic moment in the middle of it all, which, somehow, helped immensely… I’m still very unsure about things with it, but I’m trusting God to help me do what is best for us all.

Post-a-day 2019

So much for fair…

Can I just say that it sometimes feels totally unfair that certain boys end up having the bodies of men (and girls, the bodies of women) when they are still in the slightly awkward phase of semi-idiocy that is high school?

There they are, prime adult physique, the epitome of evolution doing its darndest to make sure the species continues onward in the world, surrounded by various stages of true boyhood and immaturity, that being physical, psychological, and mental immaturity….. and yet, they look to all onlookers to be men…., ready to stand for a modern Michelangelo or Botticelli…

And, usually, they have no idea the effect they can have on other people.

Sure, some, unfortunately, are harassed by the worst of breeding, and therefore have a sense of something being askew… but, for the most part, they tend only to think of themselves as doing well, as being blessed with good genes and a good bodily development.

The fact that their minds are so far behind makes it hard on the adults around them, and the fact that their bodies are so far ahead makes it hard on the youth around them.

They also, somehow, serve as not so much a reminder, but as a calling out of the fact that so many men these days are not maintaining and hosting such healthy bodies as these man-boys (and the same with women and the woman-girls)… the prime of the physical body is arriving so soon, and lost before they are even fully developed in the brain, it sometimes feels… (for the average, anyway)…

In a way, it is a blessing.

And, in a way, it kind of totally sucks to have to be around…

Anyway…, just some thoughts for tonight.

Sweet dreams, World! 😉

Post-a-day 2019

Tattoos

I’ve said plenty of times that I feel as thought our gym is the tasteful tattoo gym… not everybody has tattoos, but a lot do, and a lot have a lot of tattoos… and all of them are quite tasteful.

Today, I had the, albeit brief, pleasure of having one of the guys tell me a little about his various tattoos.

I was enthralled by in the use of lines and textures and shadowing that I hadn’t ever been able to notice from a distance… I was practically lost in the movement that made up a formerly hidden elephant, the shapes and swirls waving a hello, while beckoning me forward, causing my fingers almost to tingle, forcing me to restrain myself from reaching out and stroking it, so much did I desire to test its 2-D-ness.

And yes, this guy is gorgeous, but no, that wasn’t why I wanted to touch every so gently the sweeping strokes of the tattoo – it is merely a tattoo that was so well done, I almost couldn’t help myself.

I love hearing from people who care about their tattoos, why they have their various tattoos – there are so many beautiful little stories that are carried on their skins, and these stories always seem to bring me another little glimpse of what lies within each person…

And I like seeing who’s really there (despite all of our best efforts to keep one another out most of the time), thereby being able to love the true person within.

And isn’t that what we all desire, anyway, to love and to be loved truly and fully?

I suppose being true to ourselves is a good first step, and accepting and loving others as they are a second necessity…

Anyway, I had a lovely time exploring briefly this person’s tattoos today, and, frankly, I want to explore them more (again, not because he’s gorgeous, but because the tattoos are great).

I mean, what’s the point of showing them off so boldly, if hey aren’t meant to be examined and appreciated?

(Because house does one truly appreciate them without examining them closely?)

🙂

P.S. I, myself, have this gorgeous henna from an event this past weekend, and I love it. 🙂

And yes, I am petting my friend’s cat, who just could not stay off me at night, whenever I was getting ready for bed this past weekend. 😛

Post-a-day 2019

Hairy

Does anyone else ever feel that men growing out their facial hair, just to show that they are men and not boys – I’m thinking of young teachers or coaches especially, but this applies to more men than just them – is stupid?

It supposedly makes them more manly.

It suddenly occurred to me, walking up to work this morning, that m the female equivalent would be women not shaving their legs and underarms, just to show that they are women and not girls.

By the male standard, then, my not shaving my legs and underarms would make me more womanly, as only a woman could grow such hair – girls just can’t do it the same, you see…

Therefore, I am more respectable, because I have hair on my legs and under my arms…

Or am I?

I certainly call bs on the whole affair, men’s facial hair included.

You are a man, when you are a man, and facial hair’s growing ability does not affect that.

Likewise, you are a woman, when you are a woman, and no hair growth affects that.

Hair is simply hair.

Being a man or woman is independent of such a minute factor, and I just wish people could get that, and stop doing the stupid ‘facial hair makes me look like a man’ thing…, because it typically emphasizes the individual’s youth, creating an opposite effect from that which was desired.

Just my thoughts early this morning, as the sun rose (which, too, is a funny idea).

Post-a-day 2019

Flying solo

Riding home on my beloved scooter, having a slight struggle with the very outer edges of my eyelids, due to exhaustion, I considered:

This is the end of a very heavy week of work, the first full week of school since it started last week… It is Friday evening, and I want to go meet up with friends and do something to celebrate the completion of such a week of work… I want that happy hour evening, that friends dinner, that wine night or movie night or game night…. that night of friendship and release…

Instead, I am heading home to prepare and eat my dinner, to shower, and then to go to sleep… and I don’t even have anyone to whom to relay this information – I was not invited to any of those desired Friday evening and night activities… I’m not even sure who might have invited me if I were…

This feeling, this experience, I notice, is familiar… to when?

I believe to the last time I was teaching full-time in the US…

I work hard all week, throwing myself wholly into school (aka work), staying as late as it takes to accomplish everything I want and need accomplished for the next day or week, and then I head home on Friday afternoon, in an almost rush to free myself of the school and the feeling of needing to work…, and I head to where?

Home…. to eat and shower and go to bed…

I usually don’t mind doing this – in fact, I’ve done it multiple nights these past couple weeks, and I have been grateful for it, and have even turned down an idea of going to spend time with a friend here or there – I wanted to go home and be alone and go to bed to be prepared for tomorrow…

Fridays, however, have a way of reminding me that I am not normal, and of suggesting to me that I am missing out on one of the best parts of being an adult.

Personally, I loved having ultimate frisbee on Friday afternoons in college, where we all could release the stress from the week, free our minds and bodies, and have a wonderful time with other people having a wonderful time all together… and I long for something like this.

I did not activity (yes, I have made that into a verb here) with almost any of them outside of Friday ultimate frisbee, because we weren’t exactly friends, but we had camaraderie and mutual interest in playing ultimate together as a cap to the week, and that was all that mattered.

For me, it is the community aspect that I miss so much, the piece for which I long on a Friday night like this one.

My week has been good, but full of work and high schoolers, and I want some adult camaraderie and love now to finish off processing whatever my mind needs to process to be finished with the week…

I know that this is not what I would find at a bar, or with a group out drinking their troubles away.

It only minutely lessons the pain of feeling so alone in the world, however.

In these experiences of feelings of desperation at my own failure to have friends and activities for a Friday evening and night, (or any time, but they most often happen around Friday night no-plans nights) I notice an extreme desire to get anybody (almost, anyway) on the phone to talk to me…

But I know that it won’t fulfill what I am seeking, and so I make an effort not to call anyone – it seems somehow unfair to them, only to call them because I’m in need, not because I genuinely want to talk with that person in particular…

I don’t even call my mom, because all I really want is for her to hug and to hold me and make me feel loved, but I know she likely will be home, watching some show or other with my stepdad, and will want to get back to watching that ASAP – she is really usually only good for talking during the day, if I want to hang out with her over the phone (or in person)… it only would make me feel even less loved.

…….

And those were my ponderings as I drove home this evening, hoping to avoid the imminent rain storm that seemed almost too close for comfort on a scooter.

I did as I’d planned, visiting the grocery store after I swapped the scooter for a car, and then returning home for dinner and a shower, and then getting ready for bed.

I did end up calling my mom just a bit ago, but it was for a genuine question, and we discussed that briefly and then hung up, my lingering being quite minimal for once, as I was conscious of my desire to be with my emotions on this, and not to aim for escape by talking with my mom.

Alas, here I am, still having spoken to almost no one, but having listened to almost two hours of my current audiobook while I was cooking and eating and cleaning up.

And, mostly, I feel okay.

Yes, I still want to have someone with whom to check in, whom to love, and on whom I can rely to love me… so I don’t feel amazing, exactly, but I’m okay.

Better, actually, since I didn’t call anyone – this is a new step for nights like this one, and I think it is a really good step for me and my life.

And, on that, I’ll sign off, so I can stretch and read and sleep ASAP!

Goodnight! 🙂

Post-a-day 2019

Yearbooks

***Update on the ant bite: My bicep still rocks, but the bite swelled and split open this morning, only to close up, turn green in the middle again, and start swelling again… we’ll see how it looks in the morning, now! (And the coach’s bites did not turn green, he said, but one was hurting a lot.)***

We now return to regular programming.

There is a guy working with me who graduated high school with my youngest brother.

I pulled out the yearbook from their senior year today, and had a brief look through the senior photos.

I enjoyed how much hair this guy and my brother both had in their photos, and how they both have almost none now, and both keep their heads shaved (though my brother uses a razor, and the other guy only seems to buzz it as short as possible).

One thing I noted was that their service work locations seemed almost stereotypical for each of them…. interesting, perhaps.

Something bigger, however, was the other people I found in the yearbook.

I crossed names of people whose faces I knew not, but whose names I knew well from my brother – how fun to put faces to the names, even almost two decades after the fact.

And then I realized that I finally had the opportunity to look up and remember my brother’s best friend’s full name – I forgot his middle name a few years back, and haven’t recalled it since…. I just always thought it was fascinating, because he was the fourth with the name, so he had a “, IV” at the end of his legal name.

And I use the past tense here, because he died at the start of their sophomore year of college.

It was drinking and a bit of drugs at a party, and everyone thought he’d simply fallen asleep, but, of course, he hadn’t… I’ve always remembered most that my brother was invited to that same party, but chose to work on his absurd amount of homework, instead (thank you, UT Architecture program [not for the first time]).

And so J—– died at the party, and my brother spoke at the funeral, at the request of J—-‘s family, and he did a wonderful job.

My mom and I also attended the funeral, along with a lot of people.

After the funeral, since J—- had always said that he wanted to go out with pinwheels and fireworks, we (a handful of select people that happened to include my mom and me) went to an open land area across from a movie theatre, and set off a bunch of little rockets and a few big shebang fireworks (the pinwheels had decorated the casket) – it was a true party and celebration to send off J—- and to say goodbye together.

When I came across his name today, I was delighted – I finally have it(!).

And then I gave his photo a good look.

And it was almost terrifying as an experience, though terrifying just is not quite the right word…

It suddenly occurred to me that this was the first time I’d seen a photo of J— since around the time of the funeral – I’d only had mental visions of him since then.

It was weird to think that, u like my brother and that other guy, J— had not aged from this photo… maybe two years’ worth of aging, but that was little different from the boy who sat in the frame that is in front of me now.

These were posed senior portraits for the yearbook, and so they each are looking directly at the camera…, directly at the viewer of the photograph… J—- was no exception…

And it was spooky, knowing that those eyes, so true and almost penetrating in this photo, were no longer here, no longer existed.

And then, it had me wonder how many people in this book, this yearbook are no longer around?

And that was perhaps even spookier…

I had to move on to other things then, both in terms of productivity and in terms of an emotional desire to step away from the increasing discomfort and potential sadness of what sat before me, visually and mentally, at that moment, and so I closed the book, put it back in its place, and walked away.

I soon had tears in my eyes, and the feeling of hollowness just behind the bottom of my ribs was growing.

Now, hours later and many tasks and conversations later, I feel less afraid, and more aware of the fleeting aspect of life, the circumstances that allow us a promise of a chance at everything, and at a chance of it all going away at any moment, in a moment’s time…

On my way up to the house where I am housesitting tonight, I passed their church, where J—-‘s funeral had been… I think of him every time I pass it (though that doesn’t happen too often), because it’s the only thing I’ve ever attended there…

……

I don’t have anything insightful about this… I just wanted to share…

Post-a-day 2019