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Dear You (body)

10/25/2011

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Dear you,

I was thinking about how you appear in my life at exactly the right times... and yet, how sometimes I don't even notice you... how sometimes I resent you or try to control you.
I remember walking from public speaking class, talking about whether we thought being gay was biological or socially constructed. It was cold out in a very San Francisco way.
I remember dancing to Ani Difranco at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley. The feeling of my shirt on my abdomen almost startled me.
I remember performing for my Masters Thesis, and I looked out at the audience, seeing each and every person.
And I remember you in a tent in Michigan. The rain poured in from a not-quite-right tarp job. Sia played. And then there was you.
Today, my legs ached as I walked up the hill outside my home... the hill that seems to get bigger by the day... the hill that seems to symbolize everything and nothing at once. I saw you then, and had a rare moment of appreciation. 
 Now, I stare at my hands, full of thick pulsing veins, cracked with lines that make them appear much larger and wonder if I can practice accepting you as is.
I take a deep breath, feeling my heart beat steadily and strongly.
I exhale as my stomach gurgles.
Goose bumps rush to my arms, and I smile.
I miss you when you are gone. I want to love you. I struggle to hate you.
But in the end, hill, tent, dancing, walking, or performing... there is always you, and it is always about you.
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Dear you (day by day)

10/22/2011

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Dear you,

Day by day, I crawl through this experience... Moment by moment trying to survive in the now; returning to behaviors of the past; trying not to think of the future; surprising even myself...
I keep thinking it will get easier; like something will turn over and I will be over you...
and it will and I will, with time.
But that time is not today....
I keep thinking you'll start hearing me, respecting me, and understanding...
and you will, with time.
But not today...
I know this intellectually, but my body aches against that intellectual knowledge, feeling the pain of each word...
And I know you know how hurtful it all is, which is like pouring salt in the wounds, just for good measure.
I keep thinking- If only I could find the right words, response, gesture, to help you to know how hard this is for me too, how painful it is on this side of the invisible fence...
If I could just remind you that there is no fence, that you aren't a victim, and that there is no war or dilemma... That this love was real beyond anything either of us had felt.... 
and you will know that...
but not today...

Love, Me
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push/pull

10/21/2011

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It took me a while to realize that the bruise on your arm was just a shadow of your fist, headed for my chest...
I looked closer...
As I reached out for you, against my better judgement, I noticed something moving quickly, out of the corner of my eye.
I looked closer...
As I turned to see what it was, I felt the sting of air rushing by my face, my mouth, and my heart...
I looked closer...
By the time my eyes adjusted to the lightning speed of the justaposition, it was too late.
I looked closer,
As I felt the impact, with a thud, deep inside my chest...
I looked closer,
In an attempt to assess what was, what is, and what may be...
I looked closer,
trying to find your eye contact, your compassion, your humanity, and your love...
I looked closer,
only to find an empty space, where I once thought that you held care.
I looked closer,
and realized this fist pounding me in the chest, was really all there ever was.
I looked closer,
to see the shadow-bruise on your arm had metamorphosized into a sword like the one you wanted to carry on halloween... so illegal and needless, but something you felt you needed...
I looked closer,
as any love, care, feeling, and ground vanished like the shadow-bruise of your pseudo-need...
I looked closer,
to see nothing but my own stupidity.
I looked closer and said goodbye to you and your shadow-bruise abuse.
goodbye.
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    Cora Leighton

    Thoughts about womyn, bodies, performance, life, play, and general randomness.
    If you think things are about you-- they probably aren't.

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