On the wind blown rugby pitch
Lifted my head to the sky
Opened my mouth
And tasted the rain
It takes my breath away some times
Welling up in my chest
Pushing itself up my throat
Crying to come out
Waiting to destroy me
For going like this
Damn you
For destroying yourself
Damn you
For shooting up
Damn you
For the empty bottles
Damn you
For not being more careful
Damn you
For walking the edge
Damn you
For wasting it all
Damn you
For being you
And
most of all
Damn you
Because I love you
I have no resentment
No jealosy
No fear
I can't let this go
This facade
I have created for myself
swirling spinning out of control
I try to make sense of myself
But it all flies past
escaping me
My brain moves too fast for me sometimes
asking questions
that have no answers
my mind seeks
the answers I won't let myself find
if I have short hair
never wear a dress
hate makeup
walk like a boy
play rugby
wear boxers
have big shoulders
fall for women
Is it ok with you
if I am simply myself?
i get up and switch on the lamp near my bed. pull on my jacket and grab my keys. the car's just out back. i open the front door of the dorm and take in the silence. i like nighttime, the smell especially: wet grass and earth. i walk around the building to the parking lot, reach my car and unlock the door.
for a while i just sit, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. i'm upset, and when i'm upset my hands hurt. most people get butterflies in their stomachs, but my hands ache. i've displaced the pain.
after a few minutes, i fumble with my keys, find the right one, and start up the car. the radio is somehow comforting- at least it's anoother human voice. i back out of my space and pull into the street.
i'm not sure at this point where i want to go, but i know it has to be far away. by the time i've hit the highway, i've decided on destination. i take the interstate south, turn up the music, and lose myself in my head.
the more i mull this over, the more confused i get. most problems don't have resolutions. i realize this, but i can't stop thinking. my head has a mind of its own. at the worst moments, my hands hurt so much i can hardly grip the steering wheel, but these moments pass, like always.
i drive fast, but not too fast. there are a lot of cops out tonight. i pass an accident. a dusty brown sedan is resting on the shoulder; it is completely flipped over. there are a couple of ambulances and three or four police cars on the scene. no one seems to be in much of a hurry. i wonder if that's because no one is hurt badly or because someone is already dead.
about halfway through delaware, i'm flipping through the radio stations; my favorite philly channel has long since faded away. suddenly, an opposum appears in my headlites. it's too late to break, so i swerve, trying to keep the animal between my wheels. i hope he got away, but theres no way for me to tell. i've never hit anything before, and a pang of grief wells up in my chest.
after two and a half hours of driving, i start to recognize my surroundings. old, beat up shacks selling clams, motels with ocean-themed titles, and all you can eat crab houses. i take a familiar side street and drive until i hit the boardwalk.
i can smell the salt in the air as soon as i open my door. something inside of me is immediately calmed, and the ache in my hands begins to dull. i wlk across the boardwalk and am about to step onto the sand when i notice the posted beach rules: "no persons on beach between 1 am and 5 am"
damn. its only 3:30. i have no desire to be harassed by police officers (of which there are several driving around), so i turn and walk up the boards instead. the ocean is beautiful. as far as i can see, there is nothing but dark water contrated with the white of breaking surf. i love the rythmic rolling of the waves, the predictibilty of the crashing.
after a half a mile or so, the boardwalk narrows to a few planks winding their way through the dunes. there are no lamps here, and i find this somehow calming
i am startled to see a figure walking towards me. as i pass him, i see that he is not alone; another man stands close to him. they are both middle aged, with sunken cheeks and two day beards. as i continue on, i pass more men like the first two. i begin to realize what i am witnessing. this beach is known not only as a family vacation spot, but also as the gay mecca of the east coast. AIDS hasn't passed this place by. i wonder how many of these men are dying; i wonder how many have somewhere besides these benches to call home.
i reach the end of the boards. not ready to go back to my car yet, i sit down on the top step of a staircase leading down to the sand. it's cold out, but my jacket keep me warm enough. i keep thinking about the men i saw. i'm not sure what i feel- mostly emptiness.
i run some sand through my fingers. try holding sand in your palm sometime. it won't stay there. wait long enough, and every grain will slp through your fingers.
i watch the waves. i'm not sure what i expected, a revelation? i know inside that the ocean won't give me any answers. i have to find those myslef. but for an hour anyway, i am calm. for an hour, my hands don't ache.
it's getting cold. i stand up and head back down the boards. it will be a long drive home.