of course I did not die, just felt like it. 

I got up and had a gnarly (vs bot) therapy session first thing.

I knew it would come. it always does. my heart will break. 

and I'll keep walking, shot through through the heart.

when I moved, I stripped down to artifacts only and could still fill this place. but it's more than everywhere you look. it is in me. 

whenever I make pesto, which is often, I think about what and who I loved and lost on West Ferry.

whenever I do anything, I remember something lost. 

and I don't know why or how I always come back here, to devastated. and it always looks, right then, like I have everything under control. and it's even more fucked up that I do have it under control. 

how do you fix something that won't break? I do break. 

Aaron's return to rehab again, still saying he didn't need to be there (still not broken enough wth), and my mother's arrival with much more than 1 foot in the grave finally did it. I broke. for a couple weeks, all I could do was sob in therapy (private), hardly articulate. 

put your finger down on my life anywhere, any year, any of my mailing addresses, and I can tell you what was breaking my heart then. with very few (very sweet) exceptions, every part of my adult life has been deeply lonely. from 15 years old onward, "emancipated" to be an adult, I have survived mostly, loved rarely and not for long, raised (fantastic) kids and made meaning. 

and I don't regret much of any of it.

but my habit of endurance comes with a price I don't want to pay any more.

it is fitting that Aaron's fave movie is Tombstone. that's what it's like for me, I am a breathing grave marker, which is not how I want to feel all the time and what constancy costs me.

think as you drunk - riley green 

always my mother has wanted to be fed books when she gets here, this time she'd forgotten how, scared the fucking shit out of me! thank fucking christ for Louise Erdrich, love medicine really is the only foolproof. she and I read all day on the couch. and I sat with a heavy feeling of loss that Aaron spent years living in a house with  Tao Te Ching sitting on the shelf, right there in Lewiston where he finally found it 💔

Be as careful as crossing frozen water, alert as a Warrior on enemy ground. Be as courteous as a Guest, as fluid as a Stream. Be as shapeable as a block of wood, as receptive as a glass. Don’t seek and don’t expect. Be patient and wait until your mud settles and your water is clear. Be patient and wait. Your mud will settle. Your water will be clear.