i almost shouldn't say this but i'll go ahead anyway.
this is my space.
these are my words.
tonight i told someone "oh, i almost _____."
and he commended me for coming here and seeking myself.
coming to los angeles has been terrifying and exhilarating.
i'm finding bits of myself, bits of my hopes and dreams, amongst the
pieces of past expectations that i thought were hopes and dreams.
today, a writer told me to figure out what i don't like so that i know with
certainty what i love.
and, i think that's what walking away was for me.
i knew i loved you.
i know i love you.
but i need(ed) to see what i like(d) and didn't/don't like.
but my bullshit, nonetheless.
i'm owning it.
we were so close that we were almost.
but i had this writing thing to figure out.
and when the same woman told me that she had a good husband
who supports her writing,
i knew in that moment that i could have had the same thing.
but not quite.
there was a street that smelled like you today,
someone with your laundry detergent must have passed me by.
and when i moved some papers around on the desk this morning there was a note
from you that said "love ya" that had been tucked in a game my roommates played
while i was away this weekend.
the same woman also told me that i can run and run from my writing
but i might never get away.
maybe i might.
but probably not.
so it goes with love.
maybe we might.
maybe we won't.
she just told me to keep on writing.
to keep on discovering what this thing is that i love,
mostly by focusing my heart on it,
but also by trying what i don't like.
"Almost. It's a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe. I'm hoping hard for that."
- Joan Bauer