holding

holding

I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.

I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.

I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.

I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.

I sip.
Eyes closed.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.
Smiling.

what will you see?

I haven’t seen you in 15 years.
To think. I bet you look exactly the same.
I find myself slipping back into a daughter role, aching for her father’s attention and approval.

Oh, approval.
God, I wish I was… I was… so much more.
I want to impress you.
To be a statue, shining its significance into your daily brain.
Like a quality stamp not worth much but in a book.
Permanent (which nothing is), all powerful (we all know everything has cracks).

What will you see?
What will you say of me?
What will you want from me?
How will I be?

what do you see?

I feel shame.
Weird, why the fuck shame?
Shame and guilt?
If only I could be something more.
Socially powerful. Socially revered.

What will you see?
What will you say of me?
What will you want from me?
How will I be?

Stupid. He knows this takes time.
Well, not for her and him and her and him?
Things came nimbly, things came quick.
Stop it.
He gets it.

What will you see?
What will you say of me?
What will you want from me?
How will I be?

 

tomorrow

Waiting...

An ache.
A pain so sharp, it cuts.
Senses are lost in a fog, come back soon.
And there’s a void.
A real one.
Why did he have to go?

Heart beats heavy sighs and legs demand a slower pace.
It takes a million years for arms to move this way and that.
Three weeks is a very long time..
Huge.
Ginormous.
And yet, benign.

I think of those who’ve passed.
Like the pictures of Ron Heren, taped to the fatal pole, the one that ended his life.
A corner where Jackie and I must wait for the lights to change.
Death.
Leaving your loved one is like a death.
And yet, so benign.

Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

Be tomorrow now.
Fast forward to the race’s end.
Change the lights quick.
Bring back comfort, my pillows and blankets.
Speed this time forward like a jet plane.

farts + trader joes

FADE IN: a car, 2 friends peeling mandarins:

“I mean, now what? We just go back to farts and Trader Joes?”
She looks at me expecting an answer.
Farts and Trader Joes…yeah, that seems about right. You spend enough time with someone, sure, that’s what happens.
I nod.
She scoffs and looks away.
“It’s not fair,” she says quietly.
She’s so pretty when she’s mad/frustrated/sad/resentful/vulnerable.
When she’s human.
“Well, it can be,” I finally say. “If you changed your family, culture, social mindset, your marriage. Become someone else, reinvent yourself!, and then educate everyone around you on the new You.”
She looks at me, “Stop it.”
“I mean it.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she says, slipping back into her lawyer voice.
“Then forget her.”
She swallows thick. It’s audible.
“I can’t…”
A beat. 
“How do you feel about farts and Trader Joe’s with her?”
“That’s different.”
“Nope, no it’s not. Same shit different smell.”
A slow smile curls across her lips, “She’s different, her farts smell like roses.”
I burst into laughter — bahahahaahaha.

the natural order

friendship

This go around,
We were two ships passing.
Trying so hard to meet at the corner of familiarity, tradition, “then”.
I love her.
She’s family.
Family that was #1 and now is, well, tertiary.
Life has changed.

Time has contracted, in and out, without our even knowing it.
Before our eyes.
While we were distracted.
Amidst evolution.

The natural order of things…

I want to say it’s going to be OK.
I want to say We will always be.
I want to say intimacy is our best friend.

But it’s not, right?
Action speaks louder than words and what I can see is — this is not our priority anymore.

You come to me in meditation, eyes closed and heart open.
A kind of emotional clean up unfolds as the heart leads the mind, twice a day and still it’s a rarity in my day.
Heart asks, “What happened to her?”

Good question.
My heart swells at reconnecting.
That’s a sign, right?

I love you.
I’m thinking of you.
Let’s FaceTime, some time.
Get back in line with the natural order of things.
Liza Fernandez

man course

FADE IN: 2 girls with teas-in-tow.

So I’m walking with my girl, you know, shooting the shit, I hadn’t seen her in like a minute, and out of the fuckin’ blue, we hear this guy shout out to us. The next thing we know, he’s directly in front of us, well, my friend.
“I had to stop you and tell you I think you’re beautiful,” he tells her.
My friend giggles completely flattered.
We say some warm stranger hello’s and then his boy is next to us shooting the shit with me.
“What are you guys up to?” the first guy says.
I point to my friend and tell them I haven’t her in a minute, so we’re gonna go catch up, so thanks but no thanks, you know.
We say our goodbyes. That was flattering, you know, blahblah, and then we keep walking.

About a minute later, the friend dude is running up behind us. He’s panting cuz it’s been like 2 blocks, “Ladies!” he yells. We stop.
“I just needed to know,” — still panting — “Are there boyfriends in the equation or can I ask you out for a drink sometime?” He’s looking right at me.
My friend, still flattered, says with a huge grin, “Sorry, we’re committed.”
“Ok, but does he have to know?” this time he’s staring right at me.
“I don’t do that,” I tell him with a little, you know, back the fuck up, bitch! — I mean, who says that?!
My friend gives me a “Be nice” look.
I mean, come on!

Anyway, that’s besides the point. It dawns on me, you know, 3 minutes later, that about a month ago, a student of mine told me he was in this man course on how to date a woman. And he showed me the same trajectory — you know, run up to the girl, stop in front of her so she can’t keep walking, say something nice. My student does it to me on the street after class one day, I thought it was crazy and told him that. And then here we are, this guy did the same thing to us. He’s taking the fuckin’ course!