driving backwards in the fog

i lost two days of my life this week. two days that seem very far away at the moment, and hazy, and though i can remember more clearly what was said to me and how and the straining so hard to keep my voice down on the pay phone in the lobby of the hotel so much that my throat was sore, the kinder things are the ones i'm going to say here. i always forget saying how incredible it is i have these industrial strength steamstresses and tailors all around me, a handful of them, who mend and hem and stitch when i get ripped apart. they leave themselves behind a bit, an honor really, and i get to get up, eventually, all patchwork and together again.

i lost two days of my life, and in those days i had my heart broken in the o'hare airport, city of chicago, state of illinois, standing at a pay phone with one hand on the receiver and another on the wall of the booth. don't break it! i said to that hand. keep it in! but i thought we weren't going to talk about the pay phone, and that's true. it just seemed to fit, right there.

another thing, too, is that those two days were worth it, did i say that part? realizations were made about career and moving and how and why and when and where to go, and thinking finally that yes, remember this feeling? you respect and genuinely care for and love these people, and it's you, catherine loya who do finally, and not only a part of you you've invented in order to protect yourself, it's really you yourself. remember that? and you can sit with your back to the door and look people in the face and realize how much you miss if you don't while they're talking to you and you can stretch out the evening even in person because you are so rested and at peace and having such a lovely time.

here's where i try to be less vague and more specific: i was stranded in chicago because they grounded o'hare for too long to fix it properly. i am not taking the ohio bar exam, because i am not going to live in this state. there are three cities that i am considering. sometimes when i'm not thinking about how it sounds, i call them the top three. when i finally go, i will be able to live alone but it is time to live among. it is hard, like a ton of granite, to be here. i miss being really me myself and safe. i miss too much, actually, to even see it written down. i am not going to write a book entitled How My Summer Vacation Changed My Life by Catherine M. Loya, so don't worry, but the chapters are working themselves out in my head. when i finally walked in the door last night i put everything away and ate and drank a little and tried not to come apart before i fell asleep and i was unfortunately very successful. today that ton of granite sits on my chest. things are in pieces! can you imagine it would be like this when i got back? i never would've suspected. so now it is time to really feel it all out, and step carefully, and try to ask and let myself be taken care of. i promise to try to do that. it's really quite simple, just pick up and ask and there it will be, but i'm afraid--and maybe because of the pay phone--that it will be too much somehow. but i will try soon, and start to assemble again, and figure out all of what awaits, like jobs and cities and moving.

but today is just the trying to ask, and the feeling out, and carefully, with grocery and dinner and trying to keep the granite from doing what granite does best.