A temporary return

I once read that January came from Janus, an ancient guardian of doorways and portals, a patron of beginnings and endings. So did Jan, the first name I was given by accident. It must have been an accident, for I am no guardian of openings. I am no goddess of beginnings, not when I am always the one worshiping them.

There is a poem here, I know it. I don’t know why I cannot start it.

This year has been all about strange feelings, the return of ghostly chapters and doorways I have been trying to keep closed. For nine years, unfailing, I have met sadness on January 30. Don’t ask me how and why I’ve kept track. Don’t ask me what it means or why it matters. All I know is that January 30 arrives and so does this heavy visitor. Some years, like this year, it doesn’t leave right away.

I’ve been trying to set motion for days, trying to jumpstart my heart and my hands into working real hard. You know, to start building the life of our dreams. But it’s painfully difficult and I can’t pinpoint why. It feels like trudging through mud, or quicksand.

Last year I caught up with a close friend I hadn’t seen since graduation, and I told her all about what had been happening in my life. About how I kept moving from place to place, about how home was just a label and still a blurry one I can’t stick anywhere. What she told me was that I lacked stability. I always had, emotionally, but now it was real and because of it I was suffering. She said I had this one thing – love – that was my only remaining shot at stability, at least for a while, and she was hoping with all her heart that it would be it. It would be the thing that stays and doesn’t blur.

It’s not hard to make me cry, but yeah, I cried. Because she was right, and it’s always a comfort to hear your pain realized in someone else’s words.

I read somewhere, though, that in any relationship someone gets to be a drifter and someone gets to be a home. The drifter needs someone to come back to for certain, and the home needs somebody to wait for and to welcome. Two drifters can be and two homes can be, but it’s not likely to work. You can be both a drifter and a home, but you need somebody to be the home to your drifter and vice versa. You need somebody who understands what’s going on and breaks the ground to put it to work for you, just as somebody needs you to do the same.

I am no doorway, no guardian of beginnings. I’m a drifter and I need a home.


P.S. This space is on its way to becoming a backstage room. In three days, I’ll be moving to a new safe place: applenocom.com. I hope you’ll follow me there! I’ll see you soon.

P.P.S. Do reach out to me at applenocom(at)gmail(dot)com <3

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