"Wear"

Naked. Showered. Cleaned. Dried.

I grab a pair of new underwear and pull them up my legs and around my butt.

That I can do. Easily.

Now comes the hard part.

I avoid that by changing the subject. I grab my bottles of pills, a few from this bottle, a few from that one, one more from another, place them all in my hand which is now filled and folded over to hold them all. Going to the kitchen to get a glass of water, I continue to avoid the subject by knowing that I am at least doing something productive that will lead me further to the next parts of the day.

I bend my head backwards, dropping in a few pills at a time, wash them down with a gulp of water, drop some more and gulp again, and so on, until all the multiple rituals of my daily drug habit are finalized.

I place the cup down.

I head back over to my closet to get back to the heart of the matter.

If I am to leave my house today I must do what I must do. I have the whole big day before me. I have so many opportunities in the world. Only the hardest and easiest choices of the day must be made. That’s all that’s really left before us at any time. And this before me is the before me before I move and continue on to the next before me moment before me.

I’m concentrating. I really am. I’m doing my best to consider all the options and make one, just one simple decision that will allow me to move forward.

But within this contemplation lies the consternation.

Who am I? Ok, I need to sit down.

No, no, I can do this. I can do this. Seriously, let’s do this. Ok, ok.

Let’s see.

I pull down a blue shirt. Ok, I know I’m wearing jeans today. That’s easy. The new ones. The ones I really love right now. I am so wearing those today. I throw those on the bed so I feel like I’ve made a decision and I’m that much closer to moving ahead in life.

I have the blue shirt in hand. I look at it, feel the texture, study the artwork that I really do love, but I wonder if this how I feel today. Am I feeling this color, this art, this look, this size, this this this decision which will decide everything I am for this day before me? The blue does look good, it goes with my eyes, it keeps me warm enough on this day, oh, but wait, I don’t know the temperature today.

I stop.

I go over to the computer, pull up the weather, and see that the weather will be greatly influential in my decisions before me as it will open my mind to certain choices and close it to others. Ok, simple, yes, simple, now I know that the blue shirt could work, yes the blue shirt could work. But is it right? Do I want the blue shirt to work? It is possible that if I wear the blue shirt today and later I realize that I would have better chosen another, then I have made the ultimate incorrect judgment at the beginning of the day full of judgments and decisions and therefore it has ruined all those future decisions and judgments before me throughout the day before me. Therefore I must contemplate much deeper and harder and with more intelligence than I do have in my little mind.

Oh, I know I am intelligent and can do this and have done it (nearly) every day of my life. (Yes, ok, I’ll admit there were times in my past when I could not do it. There, I’m guilty. It’s true.) But I can do this. I really can.

The blue shirt is still in my hand. I’m closing the deal. But then I think of that one time when I wore the blue shirt and
and
and
um
well that was that one time when I wore the blue shirt and he wore the gray shirt and we went to that diner and we talked and talked and laughed and laughed and he told me that story about going fishing as a child with his father and I told him that story about fishing with my family and we ended up reminiscing together about fishing in the days of our youth and I remember wearing this blue shirt and thinking about how it was perfect for the day’s conversation because it was blue and the water for fishing is blue and it was a similar blue color to water and he was wearing gray and that made me think of the fish and together I thought we had melded together for that day and that time and this moment and this conversation so well that there was simply no better combination for this conversation and his thoughts were connecting so well to mine and we were connecting so well and maybe, just maybe, just yeah, maybe, this was going to work out fine, yeah, this was going to work out fine because we were able to wear blue and wear gray and talk about the water and the fish and our youth and our times with family and we were smiling and laughing and connecting, yes, really connecting, and he had the hamburger and I had some of his fries and he had some of my chips and we were connecting like I had always thought that we might connect and hoped to connect but didn’t realize it would seriously be possible until this day when we were in this diner and we were eating and talking about fishing and I was wearing this blue shirt and he was wearing that gray shirt and it was perfect, it was perfect, and I took a photo of him even though he shied away from the camera and gave an awkward smile, but I still have that photo, somewhere, and I used to look at that photo all of the time because it was such a special moment and a special day and I loved how he awkwardly smiled and I remembered how we talked about fishing and our youth and we were connecting while I was wearing blue and he was wearing gray.

That was years ago now.

He is in a different universe of time and life now. I know not where. I just know that I am here and he is not. And I am holding this blue shirt. Does he still have the gray one? Does he ever think of that time when I wore the blue shirt and he wore the gray one and I took a picture of his awkward smile and does he know that I still have that photo, somewhere, and know that sometimes I envision that time and place and conversation when I remember and whether I want to remember or not I do remember sometimes and I wonder does he remember and does he care about that time and place and those shirts we wore? We did wear them. I have proof. I have a photo. And I remember. I remember.

No, I don’t think I can wear the blue shirt today. Too many thoughts right now and I’m not moving forward. I’m standing here, nearly naked, in my underwear, holding this blue shirt, and needed to move forward, but I’ve just placed the blue shirt back in its spot where it lives when not being worn.

There is the yellow shirt before me. I glance at it before me. But no, oh no, there is no way I can wear that shirt today. I’m surprised I still have it.

I bought that yellow shirt with him.

That yellow shirt. I really do love that yellow shirt. I really did love buying that yellow shirt with him and wearing that yellow shirt with him and thinking about how good I looked in that yellow shirt, with him, when we were together that one time when we connected so well. I’m not sure, I’m really not sure, what the difference is between the time of then and the time of now and how we were connecting so well then and we are in different places now. And I wonder if I should get rid of the yellow shirt altogether so that I never have to face it again and I no longer have to think about that time and that place and that connection because it’s gone, really gone, and it’s been gone for years now, years, so I really shouldn’t think about it anymore, really shouldn’t worry about whether the yellow shirt or the blue shirt reminds me of this time or that time with him or without him because it doesn’t matter, it really doesn’t matter, that was years ago and those years have passed and I am ok, I really am ok, and I have a life that I’m living and a daily ritual that I enjoy and a mind that keeps racing from moment to moment to moment. So I must be doing ok, so no, I need not get rid of these shirts simply because they remind me of those times because I am fine and I can handle the historical references in my wardrobe and I can move forward and I do look good, really good, in this blue shirt and this yellow shirt and no, I am not going to let a little thing like this or that or any of these historical references and remembrances interfere with my happiness with how I look in them, no, I am not going to let anything interfere with that.

But then, even so, yes, even so, I cannot wear either the blue shirt or the yellow shirt today. No, I cannot, it’s just too much, right now, when I have the whole moment of the beginning of the day before me and I want it to be a positive day and not a historical reference day that reminds me of a good time or a bad time or really a good time that is still a good time but is hard because it’s no longer a good time in my daily life because that time is gone and over and there is no more good time with him because we are not in the same place and time anymore like we once were when we were connecting and together, especially like that really good time we had at the diner when I wore this blue shirt and he wore that gray shirt.

So I will not wear this blue shirt, nor will I wear this yellow shirt. Not today at least. Not today.

I grab a red shirt.


Oh.
Wait.
No.
Not today.
Goddamn, not today.
Of all days, it’s goddamn Valentine’s Day.
And I am not participating in that horrid of horrid goddamn days.
First, I am not with anyone, since he is not around, on this day of days for those whose hearts are full and eyes are blind. So being without anyone, without him, without, means I am not within this situation and I am therefore not thinking about it or participating in it or wanting anything to do with it. Secondly, these days of quote unquote celebration never seem to amount to anything to me or anyone other than a requirement of servitude to the altar of the gods of necessity and commerce. I am not participating in such a statement of the universe. No, I am not.

So I will not wear that red shirt.
Nor will I wear that blue shirt nor that yellow shirt.
No I will not.
There are of course many many many more options, but it is all so much before me in this moment before me and I am simply overwhelmed once again with the many multitude of multiple options that I do not want to have to consider or contemplate any more any of these contemplations that are leaving me once again with a pit, a sour pit, a hard pit a difficult pit in my stomach, in my empty stomach, my empty stomach that needs something to fulfill it but which I cannot fathom right now because I am stranded in this place in between this shirt or that shirt and this thought and that thought and this moment and this moment and this this this moment that is before me.

And he’s not here. And I am nearly naked. And I have nothing to wear.



"Phone (Wear epilogue)"

Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up! Please, please, pick up pick up, please, pick up. It just continues to ring and ring and ring. There is no answer. There is no answer to my cries to pick up. There is no answer to my needs to answer the questions the many questions that I have in my mind on this day when the guilt and sadness and paranoia have settled into my mind like it has been before but which I had managed to ignore but now, it is no longer able to be ignored and has settled in my mind in my head between my ears, and throughout my full body to where my head and my heart and my toes and my joints all are in unison that I must, I simply have to, reach him today. If I can talk to him today, if he hears my thoughts today perhaps my thoughts will be released the right way, the only way that’s best, and they will make up for the fact that we have not talked in a long time and my guilt and my sadness and my paranoia will be appeased, to some extent, possibly, so that everything will be ok, everything will indeed be ok, if he just picks up, pick up, please pick up.

I know, I’m not supposed to call, I’m not supposed to be calling, I’m not even supposed to be thinking, I’m supposed to be fine and well and good and well and good and well adjusted to everything and well everything is just fine and hunky dorey and yeah, I’m fine and I am fine, it’s true I am fine and whatever has happened in the past is just that the past because it was a long time ago and I am fine and all is well and there is nothing to worry about but well here I am wishing for him to pick up because I have thought of the things that I am not supposed to think about and I thought that maybe I could call him and express these items and thoughts in a way that he might hear and we might discuss and all will be better even though, yes, I am fine but I could, yes, be better, and well, yes, it’s true I could be better, so much better, but right now, I need him to pick up so I can get an answer to my call so I can get an answer to my question, all of my questions, all of the questions from the past and back when and long ago and currently today because the questions are not really any different than they used to be because they were never really fully answered or they might have been sort of answered but I did not want to think about the answers in the way that they were and the way that I heard them or noticed them or thought of them and so I do not consider the questions answered at all and my call has still not, still not, still not been answered no matter how many times I long for an answer there is no answer forthcoming.

No answer forthcoming. No answer to my call. No answers to my questions. No opportunity to settle my mind. My mind will continue to be unsettled because there is no answer and are no answers and all is long ago and far away and I am here, I am here, and he is not, and I still have nothing to wear.