More Matters of the Heart

I open the app. I’ve been actively avoiding it for the past few days.

A post announcing special skincare content is coming from the face of someone I aspire to. I think about how many times I’ve stood in front of the mirror in the last week alone, almost to inspect the damage the last year has done on the surface. I save the post.

I scroll to see one of my favorite pizza places runs a Wednesday walk-up special for $3 slices and I think about spring and summer and how I can’t wait to bike there for one and enjoy it over an ice-cold beer with a friend in the alleyway. Or maybe a date. It could even be a bad date for all I care. I save this post, too. My memory fails me more often than not these days.

How to fix someone (a thread). Ah, this is great as I have never needed more fixing.

1. Don’t

Don’t? Just don’t. I contemplate if it’s even possible to fix me at this point.

I don’t save the post.

Fundamentally, I know no one can be good at grieving, and yet, I have an innate desire to get it “right,” to be gentle in my ways. To feel less crazy.

Instead the rage wrapped around the paper coffee cup i was carrying. The sides caved in and out, and for a split second I thought it might collapse. Like a rubber band to the wrist, i snapped back to the corner of LaSalle and Chicago as hot tears ran down my face, spilling into my mask, filling it with the shame of my inability to grieve in a way that feels presentable.

I think about how fucked up that is.

And there it is, you see?

Be soft, Jess.

It wasn’t my intention for this to be the first thing I share in this space to mark the new year, it’s just where i’m at right now.

When I said my only real goal for 2021 is to be there for my people, I meant it with every fiber of my being. But I also never imagined the depth of those words would be defined by death and everything it means to be there for my best friend after the loss of her sister.

People always talk about the stages of grief, but I’ve grieved enough in my life and can confidently say it just feels like loops you bounce in and out of. Sometimes you get stuck in one longer than feels manageable/or “okay” and then you settle back at the bottom of the pinball machine until someone or something pulls the trigger back and lets those feelings loose again.

Everything that would already be terribly hard to process in life is only exacerbated by the pandemic. Twelve months filled with so many unlived stories.

Aminatou Sow shared the following words from Audre Lorde and I’ve been meditating on them, trying to find it in me to do just that.

Beware the terror of not producing.

Beware the urge to justify your decision.

Beware all the hatred you’ve stored up inside you, and the locks on your tender places.

You know those people who simply breath and toxic positivity fills the air around them? I refrain from letting a few choice words slip out. Be soft, Jess.

I’ve been making a conscious effort to resist the urge to fill the silence when i need time to process, but I also made a commitment to continue to share things that humanize the spaces I take up online. I know for me personally, the window of opportunity for that is short when it comes to something like this.

I can’t add anything else to my list of unlived stories, because the thought of never hearing Courtney’s laugh again on top of everything else this time has taken from me feels like all the pain I can bear.

Right now my emotional capacity is on empty and everything good in my day feels more ephemeral than ever. On a very basic level, i’m struggling to find some semblance of strength.

I know we’re all grappling with grief of all kinds.

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Costarastrology, another one of my favorites. It tells me what Cancer signs are most afraid of:

Being misunderstood.

They’re right, as usual. There is a deep level of intimacy that comes with being understood. But perhaps I wouldn’t be telling you all this if that weren’t the case.

Thank you all for taking the time to read and for allowing me the space to be vulnerable. ❤️

And I know we’ll make it through March, one day at a time.