“Ready for the Dark Days”

I slept well. I made good time on my way to my doctor’s office. I took the A train from 181st to Columbus Circle (59th), then I walked to 55th and headed East to the Preston Robert Tisch Center for Men’s Health, where many of my doctors practice, including my G.I. Specialist (who I saw today), my therapist, who I generally see weekly via telemedicine / video chat, and one of my two primary care physicians. I’ve also seen migraine specialists there, one psychiatrist appointment and a few other odds and ends.

A man exiting the building as I entered complimented me on my Concrete Blonde shirt. I’ve gotten several compliments on the shirts I wear at this location, often by doctors. Aaron had a doctor there that helped him with some back problems; his doctor approached me when I was there on my own (and didn’t know that I even knew Aaron) and complimented me on a vintage Hellraiser shirt that I had worn that day. Anyways, the compliment surprised me and made me feel good. The doctor I saw today always amuses me. He’s very funny, very fast, and he thinks and speaks very quickly – which he knows and and has used to his advantage in is career. He’s quirky. I like him. And he’s friends with my therapist who works on the same floor.

I took a slightly different route home, walking along the bottom of Central Park. I spoke to my grandmother on the phone and tried to describe the park and the buildings I was walking by. I took photos. When I got home I chilled, hydrated and had a couple of fun conversations with my cousin Katie, and I traded texts with Nathan. I was going to go to choir tonight but I’m getting a headache and my stomach is not great, and Aaron just left. Maybe if the headache and stomach issues improve I’ll catch a train down to the practice, but I’m not sure if Aaron has my music or not, so maybe it’s best to just stay home – but I would have liked to have seen everyone.

Oh. And I’ve now been outside 17 days in a row!

Today’s title quote comes from “Don’t Wait For Us” by the French indie-pop band BLOW. It is the second track on their self-titled debut EP.

“I knew then it would be a life long thing…”

I slept well. Another morning of Aaron cuddles. We spoke to Mary Ellen, my sister Janice and my grandmother Frances for Mother’s Day. And I went for a walk. 8th Day outside in a row! I walked to the grocery store for salad dressing and picked up a few other items, all healthier than I sometimes do, and I wasn’t even tempted for sweets or chips. That’s not always the case. Aaron cleaned up a bunch of stuff that only he could do and we just seem to be having a nice day.

On my walk, I listened to a mix of Tori Amos songs, and I put on the Tori shirt that Sean gave me 25 years ago. It was just 10 minutes or so of giving him a moment. It was nice. Respectful. Healing. Sometimes I need to do that with people I’ve lost along the way.

“I’ve forgotten how to dream my own dream”

I had a rough evening yesterday. I was already a little sad when I wrote yesterday but I wasn’t sure why. I had listened to the new Tori Amos album. Later, in the shower, I realized that Sean Mobley would never hear this album, despite him enjoying her music even more than I do and it hit so hard that I wept, which I don’t often do when I think about Sean. I get a little down sometimes when I think about him, but I seldom shed tears. I’m not sure why. But I was exhausted. I took a sleeping pill and went to bed early, frustrated that I didn’t feel up to expressing what was happening. I spoke to my sister Janice on the phone and then called Grandma for a quick goodnight.

Around then my sleeping pill kicked in and everything is a blur, but I appear to have eaten a bit, which annoys me. I don’t remember what happened and that always bugs me, but I did sleep very well. When I woke up around 5am I came out to the office and wrote a poem about Sean and the new Tori album. This is the first poem that I’ve written since creating the website and having a place for it to go without posting it on Facebook, which feels good. I might share this with Sean’s mother. She’s always been very supportive of me.

One of the things that Janice and I discussed last night was death. Death and our mother. Dreams we have of her. When Janice dreams about her she knows in the dreams that mom is gone, but in my dreams I don’t usually know. She’s also usually not the focus of whatever dreams she appears in. Janice says she also dreams about our grandfather quite often, but I don’t think I do at all. He died a year ago this month.

I listened to more Tori and worked on organizing the photos I’ve used in the collages in the my photos section to help prevent me from reusing the same photos when the whole point is to contrast old and new with everything given a new spin. I should have been doing this all along but I wasn’t sure how I wanted to go about it and I’m still not sure that what I’m doing is the best, but it will do for now.

I went back to bed for some Aaron cuddles but I was feeling restless and left after about 40 minutes. I’m hungry and should eat soon, but I’m not sure what I’m going to have. I’m just hoping for a productive day. And if I can get outside that will be 5 days in a row. It’s very sunny out right now, which is an improvement on yesterday’s overcast sky. It should be about 65, which isn’t bad.

LOST

The pained expression
as he wrapped his arms
around his head,
as if to hide
from the words he knew he must say;
the risk he must take.

The tears that fell
from his beautiful eyes
as he confessed
that the heart of us had been lost.

The strength that I
had never possessed in the past,
unfamiliar as it surged to the fore…

Was it possible
that I had built a temple
out of my shattered childhood
only to have him ripped away from me?

The way we barely breathed
as we collapsed in random bursts of suffering,
exquisite,
aching pain of love gone wrong,
gone sour,
gone ignored too long
and now barely recognizable.

We lay together that night,
together,
yet cleaved in two.

Yet we never degraded,
never cursed,
never accused,
never,
never,
never completely surrendered to shame or fear.

This hardship,
this torment was honest
and brave,
and long overdue;
I know that now
and I thank him
even as I yearn for my other half.

For 10 days
and 11 nights
I have fought for
the mere hope,
the slightest chance
that a lost romance might be resurrected.

I don’t want to be crushed
by the loss of him
or bereft of his touch.

I fight for my own survival
with lessons that may save me,
yet beyond myself
I yearn for the forgotten look in his eyes,
the curve of his lips,
the taste of his joy, satisfaction, surprise
and that virginal lust for passions met in kind.

I want to give him
what in ignorance
I have so long denied him,
he that I treasure most,
he that I cherish above all others.

His need,
his confession,
his longing has inspired a sea change
within me.

And if he might only look
there in my culpable remorseful eyes,
perhaps he will find what it is
that he can no longer find on his own.

With every glance I seek to say:

I am here.
And I love you.
And I am in love with you.
And I curse the day
that I ever made you feel
you weren’t worthy of my best.

I will extend myself to the best of my ability,
beyond what I have done
for any other love,
any other lover,
any other man, woman, parent or friend.

This
I swear
with a glad heart.

For you have made me a better man,
and a greater man than you would be an impossible quest
that I would never dream of
or wish to accept.

Find me Aaron.
Find me.

I am waiting in the dark
to lead us into the light.

Written by Jason Wright
August 4, 2016

UNBECOMING:

I don’t know who I am anymore.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
Perhaps I never knew.

I know I’m alive when we are together
but when I’m alone that’s not true.

I’m struggling and flailing
just learning to breathe
searching for clues and for answers.

The truth is I’ve died now
(so many times now)
Perhaps all that’s left are the ashes.

I’m strong and I’m brave
(at least that’s what friends say)
I exist so perhaps they are right.

But the pain that I feel
as I struggle to heal
overwhelms me until I must write.

The nightmares are cursed
but the visions are worse
because comforting lies can still soothe me.

And I fear I won’t ask..
How long can dreams last?
One day my dreams might consume me.

But I don’t want to leave
so I struggle to breathe
and I reach out to family and friends.

I try to learn skills
but the timing still kills
and I know that everything ends.

Written by Jason Wright
July 19, 2013

FALLING TO PIECES

I was pushed from a height
and I plummeted downward…

I shattered to pieces
yet I travelled onward,

And the night that I met you
was desperate and magic…

A ghost of myself;
my death had been tragic…

I walked through the cold;
could not have been bolder…

And one of my murderers
cried on my shoulder.

But you crossed my path
though we’d met before…

In a time I can’t fathom
or begin to explore…

For that October night
eclipsed all the others…

And you took me home
though we weren’t even lovers.

You sparked something there
that I could not perceive,

Igniting a flame
that I could not believe,

A fire that warmed
what had threatened to freeze me,

Desire that formed
over time as you freed me.

We were friends
with a sparkle
of laughter and lust…

We grew to be more
as we developed our trust…

And friends became lovers
and partners and family…

You’re in my blood;
in my breath;
you’re inside me.

You’re part of me now
and I don’t want to lose you…

I don’t want to doubt,
disrespect or abuse you…

I don’t want to hurt you
or take you for granted…

I’m conscious of this
and I need to be candid…

I’ve loved you for years now
and yet I’m still falling…

Still falling in love with
no signs of stalling…

Will we crash at the bottom
or land on our feet?

All I know is that
falling with you I’m complete.

Written by Jason Wright
April 13, 2013

For: Aaron Sanko

Life and Survival

In two-thousand-nine
my life was sublime…

Feeling finally whole
after such a long time…

But it wasn’t to last
and it wasn’t to stay…

I learned to survive
and forgot how to play.

Survival is fine
when that’s all you’ve got…

In two-thousand-ten
that mattered a lot…

But just hanging on
isn’t really like living…

Just understanding
is not like forgiving.

In twenty-eleven
my world fell apart…

I lost all that mattered
to me and my heart…

Yet still I survived
as a ghost of myself…

Until love brought me back:
I became someone else.

And that someone else
left in twenty-and-twelve…

And I left life behind
that I could save myself…

But there’s life and survival
and I’m caught in-between…

Perhaps I’ll choose life
in twenty-thirteen.

Written by Jason Wright
Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Life and Survival

In two-thousand-nine
my life was sublime…

Feeling finally whole
after such a long time…

But it wasn’t to last
and it wasn’t to stay…

I learned to survive
and forgot how to play.

Survival is fine
when that’s all you’ve got…

In two-thousand-ten
that mattered a lot…

But just hanging on
isn’t really like living…

Just understanding
is not like forgiving.

In twenty-eleven
my world fell apart…

I lost all that mattered
to me and my heart…

Yet still I survived
as a ghost of myself…

Until love brought me back:
I became someone else.

And that someone else
left in twenty-and-twelve…

And I left life behind
that I could save myself…

But there’s life and survival
and I’m caught in-between…

Perhaps I’ll choose life
in twenty-thirteen.

Written by Jason Wright
Tuesday, March 5, 2013

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