A radical act of kindness

There is a devastating, ambiguous grief when a friend goes silent. Are they gone for a bit, a long while, forever? I pour my anxiety and my sense of grievance into when I don't understand those I considered close, or were considering considering close. So much of my thirties has been trying to glean the grease trap of other people's minds. The worst are when I believe I have trespassed- did I, do I imagine it? If I did, perhaps I will repeat it with the next person and the one after that.

I went on a horrible date in 2022. Just an awful hour, anti-chemistry, ugh. They asked if I wanted a ride back to my place (I had taken the bus in). I said,

no
and we would not be doing this again.

As I was leaving, this person- having a great many struggles but not a bad person- called my name, and thanked me. Others ghost. I did what I wish others would do for me.

A radical act of kindness. To say, I was hurt, or I didn't like this. You should know. And also you cannot fix this for me. I am done. Someone earlier this year did it, despite how deeply hurtful it was, what I did and how I made them feel. The gender dysphoria I stirred up, how I made them feel inadequate, anti-sexy. I thanked them. If I am going to be in a trans community with trans social connections, this is something that is essential. This person wanted me to be better, and I'm trying, I really am.

I'm glad they gave me a way forward even if they were done.

This is a blog because I need to learn to write a different way. There will be poetry here, 2024 was my most productive year for the type of poetry that a classmate said was "short and punchy like a punk song." That made my heart shimmer.

It's also because given my academic background and interest in teaching, I write a very bloodless style normally, on my other blog. It doesn't have an ounce the lyricism I aspire to show in poetry, it seems like it was written by a totally different person in a totally different decade. I'm trying to write nonfiction that has that punch, the crispness. The bouncing, shimmering prose of Patrick Keefe, whose Say Nothing knits together true crime, political drama, and layers upon layers of cold blooded betrayal. I aspire to that, but the mentality has been that I need to write something that matches my existing work.

That sucks, don't do that. I'm taking my own advice.

Artemis

(p.s enjambment is a poetry term for line breaks that do not have punctuation, often a sudden shift. Wow, is this a metaphor for something.)