My thin thread bracelet fell off yesterday. The blue embroidery floss that lived out a surprisingly rich lifecycle since April. Always April. The ghost ship of a month that makes me walk the plank and stare down at my reflection in the smooth navy tide of life and do something. I fucking hate April, but this thread tied me to the best April in memory. Where fear melted away on grass and goblins came out of the shadows to join the party, stop hating, do some dance, do some yoga, play with glowing hoops in the dark and howl at the moon. At the feet of the mossy thai buddha where I found my father’s love and the truth of our story. Lava gravel, ginger, and tree ferns. Lilac and jasmine on the breeze.
I haven’t told my family about the bracelet but I will. So much to say. How do I find the words when my vocabulary is exclusively comprised of acronyms? lol. gtg afk. brb. ttys. omfg. wtf. idk.
Letters, words, noises. I can’t think. Not with my head pounding like this. I want to sleep. Climb into my ocean bed, burrow beneath the leafy pillows and hibernate for a century or two.
No such luck. My son is clanging on pans building a wonderland of sound that cracks my skull. I can’t think! The vacuums is sucking me into it’s dark dusty bag. The sink is washing me down the drain with rotten food and bubbles of slippery soap. The fan is blowing air on me colder than I can warm. It’s all too much. Too much when the ones I love are away down windy roads, deep under leafy jungle canopies where I can’t find them. Too much when I’m out in the sun, blinded by light and can’t see what’s around. What’s holding me? I’m floating in dark space without the benefit of it’s silence. I’m tired.
But my bracelet fell off. The one to remind me not to be afraid.
And that’s gotta be good for something right?