Clever Swine

“The passing of time and all of its crimes is making me sad again.”

Things seem so odd. i know i say that a lot, but it is true. i am sitting at work right now, at my new job at GEICO. i just finished the first part of an exam that others still have 45 minutes to take, and i am listening to Morrissey say “and when you’re dancing and laughing and finally living, hear my voice in your head and think of my kindly . . .”

It is a weird life, not having all the sadness i used to have. i now share my bed with Ari and with Melancholy. And memories. And longings still there.And Self-hatred. And stress. So, no, Mr. Morrissey, i will never forget

you.

i have Ari in my bed, and sometimes i fear there is not room for all of us: for the happiness he gives me, and the pain i refuse to let go of.

i am nothing without it. i am nothing now, but with my pain, i had colour at least. i had black and grey. i had that deep, dark canyon of myself that is now slowly being filled with those rainbows and daisies i speak so

much about. Why am i so afraid of this?

Because i am still a glass wall frozen over, and Ari has the tools to breakme. To shatter me more than Justin did. More than any of them. His warmth is melting me down, but he has the tools to ruin me forever.

But i just want to say “Emelye, be happy,” But all that eludes me because when we are in bed, i watch him sleep sometimes, and i see that under his kindness and love there lurks The Possibility.

i am a xenophobe. i trust no one but Melancholy; he has always been there and kept me strong.

And when i watch in awe as Ari sleeps so soundly beside me, it takes all my strength not to curl up with my sadness, because they are both there.

i am trying though, and Ari feels so good when he’s breathing. He is alive, and he reminds me that i still am too.