On wander, and wonder

and missing

I woke last night to the sound of rain. I like waking to the sound of rain. Something about the rain makes me want to stay up and listen to the peace it brings, and the clarity that will follow, clear starry nights that make me want to stay up forever, lifted by disbelief of the true expansiveness of... everything. But that universal peace always lulls me to back sleep.

I didn’t fall back asleep last night, I waited while it rained. Most nights when it rains, a soggy fuzzy thing paws at my door, little muddy taps and creaks on floor length windows. Last night, the only patter was rain drops on roofs. That rain can't clear away the swipe marks from nights passed. I refuse to clean them either. Ali is somewhere, but he's not here, and he's not the kind of cat that needs finding. He's always right where he needs to be. When he's around, I feel that way too. When he's not, I... I just don't know.

I've never met a human who seemed to understand me. That's not their fault. Plenty of people have tried, me included. I kinda gave up on it, decided it wasn't important. Somehow, even if it is delusion, it feels like Ali understands. Even if he doesn’t, it feels like I understand him. I miss knowing an aura of understanding is wandering about nearby. Something about going to bed every night, not knowing he’d be there in the morning, made his presence more special. I can’t recall a time when I wasn’t elated to see him, in whatever mood he chose to bring. Remembering that specialness makes not feeling it even more dark. Some feelings feel like they may never happen again.

I’m praying that last night wasn’t the last night.

I could be the type who puts up too many posters and knocks on doors. I could be the type who tells everyone about it, who pleads for his return, who refuses to believe he’s gone. I'm not though. I'm the type who forgives whatever force lured him away, and trusts he's still where he needs to be. I'd rather be one of the other types sometimes. This type feels irredeemably cold and detached, calculating, cybernetic. It feels too close to burying the reality, avoiding confronting the fact that I feel helplessly connected to a life that isn't mine to manipulate.

And even if I could wish him back, making that decision would crumble the one thing holding psychosis at bay. If I could will my selfish desires ignorantly on this universe, even in the tiniest of ways, I'd cease being human. Learned morality is not strong enough to corral my imbalances. If the world left me in charge, I would be more wild than feral, more dangerous than rabid.

Between the hot irresistible tears that often accompany the rain, I am reminded: this body, this mind, these emotions, all else that confines me in this reality; they are not mine to manipulate.

Even if I wanted that, I wouldn't have the capacity to manage it. But I understand those that feel they do. It is an enticing position. Something inside me feeds on the thrill of existing between insanity and grace, and compells me to reach deep into each, sometimes simultaneously, stretching my barriers into something nobody can understand. I tiptoe into the unmanagability of life, peeking around the corners of restraint. I am never as sneaky as I hope to be, and land myself in positions where a performance is required. So I dance a dance that always one stumble away from falling off the line that separates yin and yang. My balance doesn’t keep me on the line. I don’t know what does. I trust it anyways.

That line isn't grey, that line isn't an area, that line isn't even a line. It is an imperceptible boundary-spectrum that we all teeter on colorfully. We live that dance every day, not knowing who will meander up, what song might play next, or what movement will take hold in those fleeting moments.

Or who may wander off.

All I can do is sob through a smile and watch them go. And wait for the rain to remind me of the time we had.

If you know me, and I'm wandering, and you're wondering. I'm right where I need to be. I miss you too.

from a road trip with a friend who I will never forget