Static Too

It’s weird how you can have a routine and not feel tied to the ground. I wake up at the same time every morning, make a cup of tea, get dressed, put together my lunch and bike to work. After work, on nights when I’m not with friends, I go home, cook a quick dinner and attempt to get some writing done.

My job is challenging in the same way that down-dog is. My social life has been a revolving door so I’ve taken a step back to steady myself. I feel like I am living the reversed version of claustrophobia. What is that? The fear of too much space? The understanding that no matter how much I try to stay within a routine or to make plans, nothing in this world is certain ever. Everything is so open and I am terrified of all this space. I feel like I need something to swaddle me or keep me contained.

At this tap room in lower Wicker Park my cousin and I are talking about family. It’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other and while we hardly kept in touch over the course of my life, I always saw him as a big brother. Our conversation was effortless, and with my mom being his favorite Aunt, it felt good to talk to someone about her passing that felt it in a similar way I did.  When we part ways he gives me the most comforting hug I’ve felt since before I moved to this city. I imagine that’s how hugging my father should feel like, but doesn’t. As I walk back to my apartment, I feel centered. I realize that my internal anchor has nothing to do with location and everything to do with accepting support.

People can love you with all the static in your head, because everyone has that static too.


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