landslide

i haven't been writing much. i've been processing. it's kinda like feeling the heat on your face and inhaling the fumes after the explosion. this is processing. it takes time.

sometimes i witness the earth crumbling. like the thick red mud that smeared the road in colorado, commanding us to turn around. sometimes i witness the earth crumble. like the rocks that crushed city buses on their way up the canyon in boulder. that's how i see it sometimes.

the crumbling of a relationship or a way of life or an ideal or a dream, felt more like a drowning in slow motion. the sensation of being tethered to another human, imperfect like myself as we have been for 12 years. treading water in slow motion, after three long years we both tire out. for some reason, instead of encouragement and support we beat each other over the head while drowning. we swing wildly and take cheap shots, growling and baring our teeth like wild animals. we pour salt in the wounds that never seem to heal.

it is now that i feel it. the crumbling. it's different than witnessing it. it's more like the sensation of standing on loose earth. the anxiety of unsure footing of the crumbly dirt that erodes away at the rivers edge. the fear of falling and getting hurt burns your throat. every detail gives way with the soil and you become the huge unstoppable landslide, tearing trees to their naked roots on your way down the slippery slope.

then it is quiet.
everything is unsure.
everything is fragile and sensitive.
this is healing i suppose.

some people make mention of this rough patch. and i blink in disbelief of their knowledge. no one knows how this feels. if they've felt rough patches, this is a bare assed ride down a sandpaper slide.

i've found that after devastation of heart, the earth settles. there's simply no more earth left to slip slide away. and we are left at the bottom, our bodies broken at ground zero. flat on our backs, looking up at the mountain that we just fell from at full speed. we are breathless. speechless. bewildered. we are left wondering how to rebuild. questioning if we should, or if the earth is no longer trusting to us.

i feel it now as if floating in a reflective lake. when there's nothing left to do but float on your back, it's time to raise your eyes to the sky and watch for stars. i find myself counting them like blessings.

minute by minute.
day by day.