Change
Published on May 13th, 2008
Graphed horizontally in time and vertically in intensity, my desperate dependence on you would have been represented as a series of waves; each one more vertically exaggerated and horizontally pinched than its predecessor. I had waited weeks, even months. Given a bit more time, the steep underbellies of those opposing slopes would have grown so close as to kiss into oblivion. Patience is not one of my virtues.
Change happens fast when you aren't looking. Like minor abrasions or burning toast. I look away and my friends change, and I with or without them. Waxing and waning in and out of my fickle favor. My stability trembles bolstered then crumbling with no apparent stimulus.
Lakeside alone in the crisp black blue night. The night imposes itself on me. It pushes on the limits of my being; I push back. This stasis defines my shape, the limits of self. Sentience whirs quiet in the base of my skull. I look across the water and experience myself, my memories. The still night like a brittle chrysalis about me. Protecting me while I grow, and change.
I focus on my friends and family. I feel the current of being that flows beneath my skin pull and drag on the soft fleshy underbelly of my face. It pulls my lips, my face into a smile, and now into a frown. This ebb and flow of tension ties like gravity to the wax and wane of my affinities for these people. Change inspires and encourages me. It hurts with clarity and sting.