Things are starting to get weird here.  Life is accelerating and I’m having trouble catching my breath.  I can feel tension in my neck and arm and back, pressure in my sinus.  The winter hit quick this year and the cold is making me tight and shivery.  It’s too soon to turn on the heat but we must.  We’re cold.  We use blankets on the couch and drink coffee to stay warm.  Coffee is everywhere in my life right now.

I felt restless and edgy today.  It could have been too much caffeine.  Or perhaps it was talking to customers that knew us before Silas but not since.  It’s probably both plus the apathy of emptiness.

Blah.  The blah is alive and well in my life now.  Bills, chores, bullshit, assholes, unwatchable TV and good ideas ignored all go blah now.  It’s phone calls to good friends I have to make that I can’t because who wants to hear from a disaster zone, and what is there to say?  Surprise!  Disaster Zone on the phone!  Were you feeling good before your caller ID blew up with a Sadness Bomb on the line?

I can’t even talk to myself sometimes because it’s too fucking catastrophic to comprehend.  So I let NPR do the talking or let music thump me down the road.

Besides, this is how it goes: (first there’s a loooong series of rings where I see the person looking at their phone and deciding if they can handle this right now.)  Then: Hey, hi it’s Chris.  Yeah I’m okay, you know.  Yes, yes, thank you.  I know there’s really nothing to say.  Thank you, yes we love his name so much too.  Yeah it’s fucked up, but we’re getting by somehow.  Most of the time okay and only sometimes terrible.  I know, I know, thank you.  If you can we will let you know.  So what the fuck?  How the hell are you?  What’s going on out there in *insert city*?

And I want to listen because I love my friends and I miss them a lot, but sometimes I can’t stop saying to myself: They are talking to a disaster.  Alert. Alert.  Disaster on the line.  Get out quick because it’s only going to get worse!  I have nothing to offer, no stories or smalltalk.  Help!  I can’t have normal conversations!  Is this normal?  Do you think I sound okay?  Please don’t say something awesome and make me cry.  Please don’t… awwww fuck.

And then I feel their love and how sad they are for me and how much they know I miss Silas, and that makes me realize again how much more I miss him than is even possible to comprehend and I almost drive off the road in tears.

Which is why I don’t call.  Because I don’t want drive off the road in tears.  Because your sadness for me makes my incessant longing for Silas impossibly sharp.  Because I am a disaster zone and the only reports coming out are: Recovery in progress.  Pitfalls abound.  Use Caution.  Danger.  Alert.  Danger.

The television has become loathed and worshiped.  Rock Band is an outlet that actually feels pretty good.  A few bagels hide in the freezer.  Bandha keeps asking to go outside, but then demands to be let back in because the cold has come.  Roasting coffee is amazing and only getting better.  Lu is the anchor that secures my soul and gives me reason to awake and take action every day.  Silas fills my heart.  I get lost in this apartment looking for clarity.

I wallow in sadness, sneering at the sky as I drive down I95 and the low winter sun strobes through the bare trees and I try not to cry.

I have nothing to offer but reports from our disaster zone, but if you’re interested I’ll try to give you a call.

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