Sunday, February 8, 2015

live now. remember. vulnerable.

Today I called friends. Six of them. The phone is officially dead.

The last one, an editor of a magazine, gave me an assignment.

Five hundred words.
Nonfiction.
First person.
Like you are connecting with us out there.



Wait.
Are you saying write on the blog?



Yes.
Did I mention you won’t get paid for it?




I already know that. Of course I am going to write on the blog.

So 500 words, and I’m already at seventy-seven. Four hundred twenty-three remaining, and I’m a nervous wreck.

You could come up with a million causes or hormones or smoking cessation or no alcohol or you gotta get some stuff done, lady.

Do it now.

Okay.

I’ll type.



And soon there is a risk that I have to take.
And even calling it a risk makes it risky but such is my guy friend behavior.
Because if you pour yourself here will anyone come.

This feels vulnerable and personal and do I want them to?

164 words.
I think those are the questions.
Yes.

So.
There is him.


And he is Alabama.
And I am Mississippi.
And he is a little older than me and the brother of someone I knew for years.




And him I love very much.
And I wonder if I love too much.



So I have made me a list and contain myself within.
The list is called Would You Take This Bet?



1.     I will only need him once a day for thirty minutes. (that would be hard so I would have to blog in order to leave him alone. but that’s what we do anyway so yeah, that works)
2.     I would have to be better to myself, but he’s already liking what he’s seeing so there’s that.
3.     And yeah. It’s just the weekend.



So yes.
One little bet that I could stop smoking, and the weekend is my reward.
316 words. 184 left.



Today was not the easiest, but we made it.
And maybe you did too.


And you have your yellow lighter and your candle and water and a bowl of fruit and celery and carrots. How lucky are you?


Talking to yourself.
361 words. 139 left.



Mom said breathe.
Use four seconds to take in a breath.
Use eight seconds to hold it.
Then nine whole seconds of letting it out.


This is anxiety.
Fear.



It’s just the weekend.
Just one risk.


The kid said yes.
The parent is cleared.



Today I am grateful for six friends, a kid, an assignment and the fact that it is just the weekend with that guy who sends packages and who has been around for eight years and wow there are other things which seem so intensely personal and yeah





we’re going to have a weekend.





See. The deal is that if I was going to get better I was going to have to get better at relationships. Sounds like a project, doesn’t it? I definitely would not blame him if he did not show up.

but I'd like him to so there's that.
(and how cool is it to be someone's reward for being good to themselves)


524 words.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a cool reward.

Shea Goff said...

Yes, I agree.