But It Tastes So Sweet, Don't Let Me Be Bitter.

 

I'm tired of the broken space. Not empty enough to be a void but not full to claim chaos. To taste a freedom of long sought normalcy, the fleeting moment that it is. Oh how I wished it could have lasted a lifetime. It was easy to laugh, it was easy to smile. Breathing was effortless. It's as if I've held my breath for years. The fatigue of where we are... it seemed to have been forgotten for a moment. Like a still, an imitation of life, everyone in that space... I felt it. I haven't been able to say something felt easy for a long time. But, I laughed. A lighthearted nod in agreeance from one kindred spirit to another, we knew the space vibed. I tasted a moment. It was sweet. I wanted to hang on to it, but it was impossible. Like savoring ice cream on a hot summers day, I had to lap it up or waste it. I guzzled. It tasted so sweet. parched, I drank. 

Now days later I sit here mourning what seemed like the simplest of interactions. Admiring the smiles of people who I don't know. To hear their laughs, kind words, the music... knowing that I don't know when this will happen again, I mourn. Regret can be heavy, and I don't want to pick it up, but yearning for a few moments of lightheartedness in a sea of sadness makes it feel all the heavier. Fuck, it tastes so sweet. Don't let me be bitter. 

The last thing I need to be doing is sitting here listening to Emma Ruth Rundle, but if I feel, I need an excuse to feel. Don't let me feel blindly. Hallelujah, Jeff Buckley. Another reason for the tears. But yet, it's a reason. I'll take it. I'm tired. I'm not sure if humans are supposed to hibernate, but I've found myself going to 'my hidey hole' over the past several weeks. The cold, the holidays, not to mention the bullshit that is the current state of things makes it easy to retreat. With the drain of compassion fatigue, pandemic fatigue and all the other items of life's exhaustion, I need fucking something. I don't know what. I need. Something. People. Laughter. Smiles. People. When you have no vices, or bad habits, you turn to whatever else you have. Words. Music. Solitude, which I have in fucking spades. Emotions. Sure, why not. I feel everything anyways. I joke about being single, because why not? Far too protective of this little bleeding heart, encase it in glass and call it good. But dammit, I've all but forgotten what it's like to cuddle. A sigh, a giggle over it, it's all I got. I'm sure I won't feel as lonely when the cold breaks. I'll let the eventual warmth embrace me. Provide me with the literal warmth I need. But, it tastes so sweet. Don't let me be bitter. Just hold on for a few more weeks. Let the cold break. Not my spirit. Don't let me be bitter.

                                                               Heather Nova for a throwback, aka binge 2022