Climb On

I found out the other night that Marvin hates cheesecake. 

Like, obscenely irrational disdain for a dessert normal people think is delicious. 

And the first thought I had was, Now I know how to bug him when he pisses me off. 

I'm a sick little bastard.

It's not like I mean to be wicked. 

I just think one of the keenest parts of intimacy is when you learn exactly how to piss off your lover. 

This guy I know was having a really good hair day. 

I mean he looked like he could be on the cover of the Willamette Week.

Now that's fancy hipster. 

Your hair looks really good today, I said. 

I really wanna mess it up.

He blinked twice. 

I don't know how to respond to that, he said. 

What? That's a compliment. It's like when you see a perfect sand castle on the beach and you just want to knock it down. Don't you ever just wanna destroy something beautiful?

He stared blankly at me and I suddenly felt like I was on a Christian Mingle date. 

Finding people who understand your particular brand of fucked-up-ness can be difficult. 

And in part, because you're not always sure what exactly it is you want. 

I keep trying to motivate myself to climb again and every time I think about going everything in my body screams, I don't wanna.

And I'm not exactly sure what I'm mourning, but it makes me sad. 

But I don't have my climbing buddies anymore. 

I have zero friends to climb with. 

And it challenges me and it scares the crap out of me and that's really fucking scary to do alone. 

And sometimes I don't feel like trusting a stranger to belay me or not judge me for being wildly out of shape. 

And then I feel like an insecure teenager and that pisses me off because I am not that girl. 

But the problem is your friends make you stronger. 

And I did climb better when they were cheering me on. 

Kai used to push me and I hated it but then I'd do it and he'd say, See, I told you you could do it.

And I'd be annoyed and happy and exhilarated and exhausted. 

And I fucking miss that. 

I fucking miss my friend. 

Tonight I thought about how I heard from The Phantom and that there are texts in my phone from him and how wildly crazy that simple fact is. 

I wondered why that couldn't be enough and why I had to want to see him again, to want more, some other magic moment between us, and how if I didn't crave anything else I could just feel satisfied with the brief story that existed between us. 

And then I saw my face staring back at me in the mirror and this sharp pain hit my chest. 

I wish it had been Kai who texted me, not The Phantom. 

And it was like my heart suddenly remembered what it had lost. 

And I suddenly felt sad. 

And I know part of the reason I can't bring myself to climb anymore is because I'm afraid of seeing him and afraid of being sad when I don't see him. 

And it seems so fucking ridiculous but it was such a fear for me, climbing, and it was something I conquered with him. 

And he believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. 

And I guess I just don't understand how a kid I dated for a month a year ago can care enough to text me in the middle of the night.

And the kid I spent most of four years beside can so easily forget me. 

Life stings. 

And I hope some night I can be brave again and remember how much I loved proving myself wrong.

The problem is I never did believe I could do it. 

That's what the love from others gives us. 

Strength.