Alchemic Verse

Yesterday marked the notarization and mailing of the final step in the divorce paperwork. As far as complex but ultimately for-the-better endings go, this feels somehow still anticipatory. When the courts call it official, I hope the… I don’t know, relief I tried to cultivate finally lands. I don’t mean to sound heartless either – the grief has simply transformed by now, so much mourning already done.

I wanted something to… celebrate myself for continuing on, regardless of how hard this has been. I hoped to at least pat myself on the back in the absence of anyone with whom to celebrate or distract. I bought 2 doughnuts, which were honestly each delicious, and fired up the Twilight Princess on the GameCube. I’ll take pleasant if not truly magical.

Today, I woke up with tears on my face from a dream I couldn’t remember, and the weight of it threatened to drown me in the dark. I used to remember all of my dreams – so many nightmares, riddles on repeat, dreams of falling, breathing underwater, flying, being lost, being found. I remembered entire floor plans and scents of places that don’t exist (some that can’t on Earth as we perceive it), as well as faces of people I don’t know.

To release this weight I couldn’t recall, I checked the clock and 5:33am lifted my bones to watch the sunrise, to take a hot shower, and head out for coffee. A fawn-colored feather flapped, stuck to the hood of my hot car as I departed the pitted gravel drive of the slip.

I really love this coffee spot; for the past three weeks to the day, the baristas have been beyond open and kind, a light every quiet morning. Some days, they have been the only people I’ve spoken to aloud. I will miss these moments immensely when in six days I order my last “largest possible cold brew, please” and try to find another bean juice monger near the next port of call. All I see on the map is S-bucks, which no hate to those who are fans? But for me, big “no thanks” energy.

Sitting in the car, I ate a nutritious small breakfast, drank my f%@#normous cold brew slowly, and pored over others’ writing, feeling their pain as my own until I snapped to the present and asked myself quietly – what’s next?

Q: What is my next transforming step?

A: You gotta, gotta-gotta, quit smoking, babygirl. Period.

There are lots of ways to go about this, but I remembered what worked for me and decided to go for it again. To the vape store, one low nicotine, one no nicotine – and when they’re each done, so will I be. Lingering mental cravings will be replaced with positive things. The “break” and stimulation of the bad habit can be swapped with new habits that feel even better. I have to heal the voice I damage with every cigarette. I promised I would sing again…

When I quit properly the first time – the time that lasted longer than a couple weeks of wishful thinking to last years of betterment – this was the way. Tapering the chemical, replacing the mental with the physical. 2 or 3 sets of 15 reps when the craving feels unbearable, happier chemicals naturally released and absorbed while strengthening the body. A music break, listen or sing to 2-3 songs, roughly the same time it takes to burn down each the Spirits I use to break up the day.

Silent on the slip, I just reviewed my entire camera roll, deleting something like 1500 total objects. Cleaning something feels like progress. And now, writing more for myself than my readers maybe, I wonder what to do with the remainder of my weekend.

I saw someone recording me on their phone in traffic yesterday… in the, least subtle way ever. No road rage or road rage-worthy incident preceded any of this, to be clear. Thankfully, my awkward humor had me smiling and giving the camera finger guns while internally asking “what the whole, super-sized, deep-fried, crispy Mc f#&@ sandwich is this?” at the silhouette of a messy bun behind tinted windows contorting their position to point camera phone backward… The experience doesn’t exactly endear me to going out by myself again today, but I also refuse to be limited by the fear of whatever that was about.

Maybe today I simply trim the sail just enough to catch the breeze and see where I’m carried. And take a nap.