Sometimes it’ts like this
Posted on | February 25, 2010 | 4 Comments
Nearly two feet of snow tonight, and the plow truck is in the shop (timing is everything.)
Shoveling snow in the gathering dark, the fat flakes melted on my cheeks, still hot from crying.
Sometimes it’s like this, and today it was (although tonight we’re better.)
It felt good to throw my body into the rhythm of pitching wet snow, after arguing (sometimes we’re in direct competition for the same things: time, mostly.)
And I have begun to be aware of how everything is always close, always just under the skin of the moment. Starts. Finishes. Hurts. Exhaustion. Glee. Laughter. Eggs cracked in a skillet. Post-it notes rumpled and forgotten. Self sabotage. Determination. Making it through the day.
The snow, tossed to the side of the path was aqua blue beneath each nook and chink, where the chunks would fall and align, making shapes, silhouettes of other-worldly castles in the dark. Today it was like this. Some tears. Some self doubt. Some frustration. And snow. (It’s still falling.)
When things get messy, what do they look like for you?
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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February 25th, 2010 @ 3:18 am
Sometimes when things are messy, I am surprised. I expect the wrath of anger, and receive shared blame, understanding, acceptance, even solutions. This happened this week, and I am still in awe. Still grateful. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Other times, Walls are Built. Or, Rebuilt. Silence permeates between the static of the children’s noise. Isolation takes over. The line is drawn in the sand and we retreat as far away from the line as possible. Time passes. The line is smudged, wrecked, erased. Until we pretend the line was never drawn in the first place.
And then there is where you are today. Tears. Arguing. It is our least effective way to problem solve. We both attack. We both get hurt. It is a rare occurrence, and I am glad.
February 25th, 2010 @ 10:30 am
“sometimes we’re in direct competition for the same things: time, mostly.”
This is our constant wrestling match too. So very few hours, so very many responsibilities, and those longings that fall somewhere between entitlement and luxury with never enough time for both of us to indulge…
Our messiness is the small, unbearably nit-picky variety that tends to steal all urgency or desire to make things right. It sucks. But eventually, I end up remembering that our relationship is worth swallowing that sarcastic comment or that pointless criticism, and we find our way back to breathable air.
The timing of that snow could have been better, I suppose, but your photo of it is enchanting!
February 25th, 2010 @ 1:26 pm
I don’t know how they look, but I know how *I* look: like a chicken with its head cut off, running in circles, squirting blood! AAAAAH! hahahaha! Well, you asked!
February 25th, 2010 @ 6:18 pm
messy is yelling, anger, crying, dredging up past hurts
messy is swearing for effect and to inflict damage
messy is a void that gapes between us that I sometimes don’t ever feel we’ll close
messy was yesterday
messy is a quiet aftermath, an inner monologue to be better at this love, at loving this person, at understanding where he is right now