Friday, July 10, 2015


There is a certain feeling that nestles down in your heart when you enter an abandoned house.
An unnatural emptiness that seeps through your scuffed twelve-year-old sneakers, 
Causing you to pull your jacket closer. 
Carefully touching the deep brown varnished hand rail. 
Wincing at the creek of old protesting stairs,  looking around to see if anyone heard. 
They hadn't. 
Touching the bubbled white with tiny pink flowered wallpaper at the door jam. 
The gravitation to the lit,  empty room is necessary, 
But the clouds are black and the trees bend and sway in the wind. 
The kind of wind that it takes only a glance from curious eyes out a window to chill. 
This time I pull both jacket sides close. 
Cornfield a dull tan with the poor shaving of the combine razor leaving scraggled roots of stalks. 
And the old tractor trying to quietly sleep under the protesting trees.
Its so still. 
So still compared to the picture displayed by the window that I must go to the next room, feeling dread prompted by the dark space to the left where you enter the attic. 
I can't pull my jacket any tighter around me. 

We had gone to my grandfather's house for Thanksgiving,
Now filled with us and my new grandma's married in family. 
It was so difficult to remember this additional cousin's name. 
But everyone giggled as I loudly whispered,  "What's lingerie boy's name?" to my aunt. 
Not that I knew what that meant, 
Not that anyone knew how I had concluded the two sounded close. 
Kids sticking olives on their fingers and sucking  them off, all laughing. 
My new older cousin Cassie had said "shit" outside. 
And my mom looked tired. 
Then one day she couldn't take it, the meanness that didn't take leave when the alcoholism did. 
Grandma, now not my grandma,  promising to call. 
She didn't. 
And there I was, visiting the empty home. 
Except, it wasn't empty, just my grandfather downstairs. 

There are some cacophonous stirrings so loud that the heart screams until the prefrontal cortex vibrates with every beat.
It's there, subtle
So loudly that my neck and shoulders hitch up into the base of my spinal column
Until I crumple into sleep.
"I have feelings for her. I'm breaking it off."
The phone is cradled in my hand, illuminated from being pulled away.
The ceiling is that damn popcorn texture.
"Are you there?"
Clearing my throat, "Yes."
"You abandoned me."
"I thought it was best to stay here for the summer and work on myself."
"Why couldn't you have done this last summer?"
"I did what I felt was right. What I thought would make me a better person and better girlfriend."
"You abandoned me. I gave you my whole heart for two years. She wants to be as committed as I do."
My head rolls to the side, I need to take the damn dishes to the sink.
A tear rolls onto my pillow.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too."

What made his house feel that way? I often pondered.
Absence of soul or self or love?
Rinse and repeat.
The choices of upheaval and bonding that turn endlessly.
Key turning in the lock,
A dog wagging himself side to side in greeting.
Darkened familiar doorways and a screech of sliding windows.
Summer air.
Rough concrete underneath and smoke curling to the sky.
"This place is kind of depressing, no offense."
I nod.
It is.
And I wonder, is this what empty feels like, from the other side?

It  was finally the day. 
The day that I hung my head and arm out the car window,
Dissolving into air, beauty, and infinity.
It was hour three of the trip,
The mushrooms leaving my neurons awake and a light of dry,  crackling existentialism.
"Can you see it? The worst is over."
We had driven to the ends of the city and back with a soft glowing cigarette between our fingers.
Music pumping and throbbing through blasted speakers.
"The monsters in my head are scared of love."
I'm so happy...
"Fallen people listen up! It's never too late to change our luck."
My friend grabbed my hand and squeezed and smiled at the power lines wizzing by.
My other hand softly moving my bangs from my face, also smiling softly.
I could see myself in my apartment, sad and chained to the expectations of someone that didn't love me.
Then casually closing turning a page with the scene displayed until I could no longer envision it.
No more use for it.
"So don't let them steal you light."
"Don't let them break your stride."
I pitied him then, for the cruel things he said, for the things he needed to do because he hurt inside and so hurt others.
"There's a light on the other side, raindrops falling behind."
Lighting another cigarette I sunk lower in the passenger seat, alive with the knowledge that I loved and was loved
Even if some of the other things hurt with a dull, invasive ache,
This was the most beautiful moment.
"It's a revolution."


  1. Revolution is beautiful, for the new can be molded and appreciated. Sounds like you're making tough decisions which, usually, are the right ones.

    I pondered some things this weekend, as I laid upon a cold, hard was a jail cell, and I thought, for many crazy hours. I hag a warm need at home, and my dumb ass is laying on a concrete slab. I have my own food which I chose, and I could choose to eat it when I wanted to. I have people that love me and I don't even know how to feel it. But the cell made me feel my own angst, there were no more distractions beside the nagging ache in my left wrist from the asshole cop putting the cuffs on too tight. I wanted so bad to be outside of that cell while the other 7 guys just accepted it as if it were daily ritual....that's because it is. I just wanted to scream "outside you're free, people are not meant to be locked down like this." They probably wouldn't even roll over to see what the commotion was they were so comfortable with it. Insane to me. During my thinking I came to the conclusion that I can't run from life lest I be held, locked down in a jail cell, where the soul can't dwell. And then, I'd really have nothing to live for.

    At the moment I'm enjoying my release to freedom. That wasn't my first time, nor my longest, in jail. I can't let it happen again. I decide life today. Whatever the Fuck it may be because it DOES get worse, it can and it will get worse.

    Just choose life, eve, wherever it may be. Just don't get so froze up by overwhelming emotion as I do. Like jail my brain can become a confined space and when coma is induced by the stupid shit I do, I can hold myself down. It's a choice. Sorry for taking over, I just needed to let that out.

    1. Auto correct fuckin sucks. Sorry

    2. No, please, you're always welcome too. You have that blast of insight and truth I highly value. Sometimes I get overwhelmed too and I have to remember it's temporary.

    3. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  2. Two years?
    Two years of
    You are not good enough,
    You are not trying.
    It's your fault,
    You are inadequate.

    Eve, he was lying.

    Someone who loves you won't leave you dangling off a cliff edge, uncertain if the hand reaching for you is about to pull you up or push you off. Stay away from people who use words as knives; they don't deserve you, not the other way around.

    I hope you are well - or better, at least.

  3. The ceiling is that damn popcorn texture.

    damn those ceilings! !!

    Grandma, now not my grandma,  promising to call. 

    She didn't. 

    Yes! It happened to me.

    "You abandoned me."

    That's debatable at best!

    X shelby

    1. And the writing about your family is always very powerful.

  4. "The worst is over", I keep thinking that only to be surprised by something new. And no matter what happens I still want to go on living, because I refuse to give up. I wish you all the best, I really do.

    / Avy

  5. Hey Eve,

    I wanted to stop by after you asked me too
    It's strange
    I know I used to read your blog
    But it doesn't show up in my reader anymore
    So maybe I need to follow again
    I will try anyway when I'm in my laptop later on

    I haven't forgotten you though
    And always love to hear from you on my blog
    You are always close by with some words of wisdom

    This post was beautifully written
    It made my heart ache

    Hope you are doing well hun
    I won't leave it so long the next time

    Love x

  6. Just read your beautiful words here. You evoke such a strong sense of place and character.

    Also, the Emily Dickinson quote? I have that pencilled on my heart. I live by it.