Take Me Piece by Piece 'til There Ain't Nothing Left Worth Takin' Away From Me

Some nights are like this in Suwanee, Georgia. I'm watching true crime and having a glass of that fancy box wine. I am alone. I believe that the new ottoman is on the stoop, but ottoman situation is still presently standard. It's drawing to a close and that is...okay and good and painful all at the same time. I'm ready. I love that.

The house is empty. This house is too big to be ever empty. I want to bring three more people here to fill the spaces. Okay, that's odd. My whole existence smells so strongly of the Tiger Balm on my shoulder that my eyes are watering. But it feels damn good. I've rolled the fuck out of it and it seems soothed for the time being.

I had my annual physical today. My blood pressure is perfect. My EKG is perfect. My lungs are clear. My weight is good. My waist-to-hip ratio indicates that I won't die of a heart attack. Let's see what my cholesterol predicts for that. I even peed the right color. I am an exciting woman.

I do need to finally see an orthopedist. I guess after...seventeen years, it's time. Years of hurting it with nothing and hurting it in the gym and just letting it hurt. That's a metaphor, I suppose. Therapy and an orthopedist. Fine. I can eventually stop hurting and do something about it.

Some guy is up in my DMs. I mean, it's never innocent, is it? Asking about my art and my writing. I really get tired of that. They really don't actually care. And ask about my kid. Go on. "Take me piece by piece 'til there ain't nothin' left worth taking away from me." Last time I heard that one live, I was holding hands with the non-committal. I have a type. Non-committal, bullshitting drunks. There seems to be such a fine line between a man who is a man and a man who is a fuckstick.

It's a Friday night just before all of the excitement that surrounds New Year's. I have a date tomorrow night with a lovely gentleman. My spidey sense says something ain't right, so I'm letting my heart move slowly. He reminds me of someone I crazy loved before I knew I could. Fucking Marines. The crazy ones. They might be the end of me. Funny, despite the stereotype, the ones I've known have been especially intelligent. I have no use for an idiot man.

He grinned so big three days ago that I saw a missing molar. I cannot smile that way. Also, sus. I mean, I've found some interesting things about the man via interaction and that thing I do where I background check every man I go on more than one date with since Gabe was a little one because I don't want to bring home an accidental pedo.

The night after, another date. This one is a goddamn child. Closer to my son's age than my own. But there's something about him. He's certainly evolved. Responsible, clear, attentive. We've been chatting for weeks. His attitude and morals and peccadillos remind me of someone I used to know. That's good and bad. In fact, I bet he's just a taller version, similar in looks as well. And only a couple years younger than when I met that other. I'd love to bring this one to that big thing in a month and a half. He'd be a splash. He bought a painting right off my easel, intended for my niece.

I made her a new one with mountains to represent her and her sisters and her mama. She doesn't know that part. I'll tell her eventually. Her mama is always with her. Especially when she's most alone. I think it's just too fresh for now. I love that young woman. I am proud of her. She works hard and she chases the things that make her happy and that young man she's seeing is goals I cannot even imagine at that age. She's remarkable. I knew it since she was eight months old.

In truth, there is someone I'd prefer. I'd have preferred him a decade ago. But I don't think it's in the cards. He's handsome and bald and strong and funny and eternally supportive. But, also, far away. And I don't know what I'd do if he were not there in the long run. Eyes I could drown in and a smile to kill and a laugh that I can feel. Can someone tell him to make a fucking move?

But tonight is a Friday. I am alone. And... I'm okay with that. I wasn't earlier today. I was an anxious mess. I'm learning to self-soothe. And that's amazing. Books and baths and people I love and writing and cleaning and I am not particularly exciting. And that's okay too. I am pretty happy with me. That's unusual.

So some nights are like this. And some nights are quiet and some nights are calm and some nights are alone but not lonely. I am happy. I am calm. I am at peace with most things. And that is something to celebrate. And some nights are like this in Suwanee, Georgia.



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