I'm about to sigh and sneeze and scream at once because this room, this night, everything is so full of the world. I love the moments like this, when life is less than a blink away from giving you a hug or slapping you across the face, either way wrestling you out of your ridiculous daily dramas and revealing the utter uncertainty of it all. There is something delicious and frightening about hanging still while smiles and cuts go rushing by.
Coming out of my cage and I'll be doing just fine.
I went down to my brother's room when I got home tonight, when the house's sleep was punctured periodically by the lilting breaths of the tired. I went down to his room and gave him a kiss on the cheek, so perfect and pure, so human and real. I'd missed him so bad. He calls me Spooner, so I wrote him a message on the driveway last night in chalk, that read EVEN SPOONS GET LONELY, and underneath, WEE'VE MISD UR BEAF, TEKSIS, like those big Chik-Fil-A billboards that always remind me somehow of my brother.
Open up my eager eyes.
Coffee, my favorite drug, and Tia and I talked while we made ourselves sick silly with Lactaid pills and ice cream. She looked at me and I could tell that she suddenly loved me at last, and was almost overwhelmed. Jake watched and I think he was jealous. Maybe he'll find out someday, or maybe I'll never tell him what we talked about.
But tomorrow isn't a dream, it's a promise. It will carry the pleasant aftertaste of what is happening right now, because it is something that's never happened before. And I'm going to look around and take it all in a breath, because it might never happen again.