IMustWrite's Xanga

night before my first day

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 23:43:01 GMT

Tomorrow I begin my internship. The internship I got through an unpredictably perfect storm of fight and luck and chance and whim, that seems to have chosen me more than I, it. I am so ready to go to bed tonight, and wake up tomorrow, and get dressed, and drive to work, and get started. Every moment of the going to bed and waking up and getting ready and driving in and getting started, I want. The reading and the alarm and the oatmeal and the trees and the itinerary and the handshakes and the meetings: I want it all. Bring it. Bring it. Bring. Bring. Bring.

I found a way to be content with the side projects and research that have felt like tarnish up to this point.

After my first day tomorrow, I'm going out to dinner with the training director. After dinner, I'm going to call Josh, and tell him about my first day. I already know this. And I am already looking forward to hearing his voice.

It was this past week that I realized that my heart is with Josh now. And with seeing where things go between us. I saw that fact in action before I could label it in thought. But there have been signs.

The third time we got together I sat on his couch and watched a baseball game and a movie and drank a beer. And as I sat beside him, I realized: this is what I want. This, right here. And it wasn't sitting on a couch and it wasn't watching the television and it wasn't drinking a beer.

A few weeks ago we went to a movie. He picked me up. We talked in the car. We talked during the movie. We talked on the ride home. And he kissed me goodnight with a tilt of his head and this kiss that he does. The best kiss.

Before having left for the movie that night I believed myself to be in some kind of Eagle's song about a Peaceful Easy Feeling. I knew he wouldn't let me down because I was already standing on the ground. How perfect that I could move away without fear of being let down. Afterall, I was on the ground: brilliant!

But that night I came inside after his goodnight kiss. And I turned on the light in my apartment. And I kicked off my shoes. And I sat down. And I knew I wasn't in that damn song anymore. I knew I wasn't standing on the ground. I could see the ground, but I couldn't bring myself back down to it. At least not for a few hours or until the morning. I'd have to wait. It's not that I don't like to float or fly.

But it wasn't until this week that I saw my heart was up, up, and away. Off to see where things might go with him. Apparently grown tired of the whole grounding charade, and unwilling to participate in any of that nonsense anymore. Good for my heart! Lil daredevil trooper that it is.

Sometimes it's hard to let go & give up the ground. And I don't know if he knows that it's hard for me, but I think he does. And I don't know if he knows how much I like him and that my heart is with him now, but I hope that he does.

going to bed a little early

Sat, 30 Jun 2007 23:10:19 GMT

It is the best of times; it is the worst of times.

Last Friday, I met a guy. At a bar. On the dance floor. A totally un-me way to meet a guy. I was attracted to him immediately. Beaming smile. Warm eyes. I wanted to kiss him right then and there. Who was this girl who wanted to kiss a stranger on a dance floor? No one I'd ever met before. But there we were. Dancing. A few text messages and a phone call later, Josh and I were going out. Tuesday night we went out to a pacific rim restaurant. We walked by the river, talking. We had drinks at a jazz club, were Josh tapped out the rhythms on my bar stool with his thumb and foot. He didn't know it, but it gave me chills. When he dropped me off, after midnight, he put his arm around my neck. He touched my hair with his hand. I was dying. I said goodnight. Daily texting ensued.

Thursday night, I got home from watching a movie with some friends. I opened my laptop to see that my mom had emailed me. The title of the email was "Neurologist's report in." I had an inkling. I opened the email. This is what she wrote:

"Although I would have liked to talk with each of you in person, email was the only option to tell you all at once. I called today Dr Laza's office said I tested positive for Huntington's Chorea. Obviously, I didn't expect that diagnosis. However I like to think I am the optimist in the family. Any for whatever reason this is the illness the Lord has sent to me. A line from the encyclopedia here at home says "In a few individuals the mental changes appear only late in the disease, and sometimes never occur" My follow up visit with Dr Laza is July 23. I will ask her questions as to how to keep as healthy as possible. Jeff and I are willing to do whatever the Dr recommends. I will tell my sister Liz and my brother sometime after I have spoke to each of you. I love you all very much, MOM

Reading this email was similar to when I read the email that told me that I had not matched for an internship position. I read the first line, and skimmed the rest, unable to read the words. So there it was. Plain as day. No longer just a speculation. No longer a curious quandary. A reality. I was the one that urged Mom to get tested. And now I felt guilty. Why should she have to face her fate so directly. Why hadn't I let her go on in denial that what had killed her mother, was in her blood too. There is a 50% chance that I will develop this devastating disease as well. And if my leg twitches have anything to say about it, it seems pretty likely that I do have HC. And I must face the music of the testing someday not too long from now myself. My whole family is in shock. My brother, my pregnant sister with 2 disabled sons, my dad with a wife whose health is slowly deteriorating, and my mom, who wants to be strong and cheerful for all of us. I've decided to support her denial of negative emotion in this case. Because who am I to break down what might be the healthiest thing she's got going.

Friday I rode my bike from Akron to Cleveland on the beautiful tow path, and rode the train back. There were creeks and the river, flowers, birds, rabbits, bridges, tunnels, and a bright blue sky. I rode with Rita, my adopted mom of sorts. We spoke of her trip to Peru and her family drama. I did not mention mine. But she knew. I spent the afternoon floating in Meg's pool. Sparkling clear water. Butterflies flying overhead. We ate dinner at a diner. I drove home. I watched videos on YouTube of people afflicted in late-stage HC. I cried. I read my Anderson Cooper book. He wrote of the suffering in the world and in his life. I wondered: Why.

Today we played softball. It was a gorgeous day. Sunny. It felt so good to throw, hit, run. Afterwards we got ice cream. I got coconut cream pie flavor, as part of my effort to taste a large spectrum of Handel's flavors.

Josh and I made plans to watch a movie after he gets off work tomorrow night. It will be our first time hanging out in a private setting. There will be movie-watching on the couch. And all that comes with movie-watching on the couch. Late at night. All alone. In my house. With his hands.

So tomorrow I must prepare for all of this. Tonight I'm going to read my book until I fall asleep.

Goodnight.

My First Post

Sun, 17 Jun 2007 23:01:41 GMT

I need a place to put all these thoughts down.