Not That Lucky

*written years ago, remarkably like something that just happened a few weeks ago. life is very cyclical, no?*

"It never tastes the same anywhere else...you know?" Shiloh mused as she stared at her Big Mac. "You know?"
"Yeah...of course."
I would have done anything to get away from her at that moment. She was obviously "toasted" and was laying on the couch in her underwear dropping sesame seeds onto my jacket.
"Billy..."
"Will be here soon. He just went to run a few errands." she said, somewhat gruffly,face full of half chewed beef and sesame seed bun. It was like this every time...I would come by for the stuff, Billy wouldn't be there and Shiloh would be lonely. I'd feel bad, come in and sit while she yammered on about things that I didn't care about, and people I didn't know...and I always wondered to myself: what kind of grown man has a name like Billy? So many thoughts were running through my head as I looked around the familiar apartment. It was almost as if I spent more time there than at my own place, they still had that disgusting wall clock from the seventies that mom had given Shiloh when she married Mark Gray.
Whatever happened to Mark Gray? And how did my sister, who I always thought was alot smarter than me, end up shacking up with someone like Billy? What kind of name is Billy? When is he going to get here?
I looked up from my shoes and tilted my head towards my sister.
How long had I been out? Had I been out, or just not paying attention? She was still talking...talking to me.
"...and then Kelly and Steven got married but only because Kelly was," she patted her stomach lightly, as if she too had something growing inside "you know."
"Yeah well..." I started, feigning interest "that happens sometimes."
The rattle of keys in the door was my saving grace. I wouldn't be there much longer...and I was glad. Shiloh is my sister, and I love her to death, but that apartment creeped me out like nothing else. I guess when you know too much and aren't able to tell anyone else, the paranoia just creeps up on you.
"Hey Shi...how about a little..."
She giggled. "Shut up you pig, Denise is here."
I hated him...more than I hated the apartment, and every time I went crawling back I made myself sick. Why couldn't Billy just tell me that I was wasting my life, in over my head, in need of some help or some other shit like that...coming from the dealer himself it might mean alot more. Even though he was never there there when I came shuffling in for another fix, she was...that's what made me stay long enough to make a mistake. What if I showed up...and he wasn't there, and he never came back? Would I be alright then? It didn't matter, he always came back. He was always ready to make a sale.
I bought alot that day, more than usual, and managed to swallow all of them before I had the chance to chicken out. I can't really say what made me do it...no real reason other than the fact that I was just so tired of using and didn't have time for rehab or detox. I didn't want to be found in the kitchen...I didn't want them thinking I choked on a ham sandwich or something...so I got up from the table and made my way to my bedroom. I made it halfway down the hallway before I started to feel "the effects". A couple seconds later I fell...right on the cat. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was her biting and clawing at me, trying to get out from under my seemingly immovable arm. Footsteps...Grady...darkness.
I woke up, sometime later...could have been days later. I still have no idea. I was so upset that I woke up. Why can't it just be over? In my shower, wearing the clothes I had worn to Shiloh's...
Grady was sitting next to the tub with a horrified look on his face that I had never seen before. I felt a little guilty because I knew I had put it there...but it's not like I planned for him to find me.
"Denise..."
"What?" I gurgled, rolling over like a seal pup. "Turn off that water."
He obliged, and grabbed my arm in an attempt to drag me out of the freezing water.
"Leave me alone."
" You're about to get sick," he insisted.
"Don't you think I'd know if I were about to get sick?"
He pulled me up and positioned me just in time for my biggest mistake to be purged.
" Good God Denise...you could have died, what the fuck is the matter with you?" he cried desperately, holding onto me like he thought I might get up and run.
Yeah, I could have died...but I'm not that lucky.

crunch

a little brown leaf came rushing
flying an invisible plane
kamikaze branch separation anxiety notwithstanding
it flew as fast as it could and crashed
with a light crunchy whisper
on the pavement


all it's comrades will be under my feet in a month
leaving the trees naked as the bluejays that live in them

missing the cashew

hi.

my name's meg.
and believe it or not, i have some friends.

some of those friends don't have kids yet.
but some of them do.
and i'm really happy for them.

but everytime i see baby pictures of other people's kids it makes me want to puke.
not because the babies are ugly...
i've only seen one ugly baby in my life and that was my brother when he was a newborn.

wooo...he was red, bowlegged, and looked like an 80 year old. not a pretty sight.

but i digress.

it makes me want to puke because i am supposed to have a baby in 7 or so months.
but that's not going to happen because there is no baby anymore.
you know...they say that miscarriages are really common but i find that hard to believe.
this pain i'm feeling, it's something that could only happen to me.
i feel it so completely with my entire body and being that it's hard to believe that anyone
else has ever felt it, or that it's ever going to go away.


but they promise me it's going to go away with time.
i'll never forget it but i'll get some closure, get some peace.
and when i'm ready, and with only moderate medical intervention, i'll be able to get pregnant again.
carry to term.
give birth to a healthy baby.

all of those things i could be doing much sooner if...
well...
if she were still there.
in the womb.
growing. developing. turning into something more than a cashew.
waiting to be born.
waiting to grow up and be a smartass like her parents.

but she's not.
she doesn't exist.
the little cashew that i was sure i was going to be able to love and protect and take care of doesn't exist.
all the plans i made for her, for me, for us...
null and void.
they count for nothing.
they're never going to happen.

i'm trying to come to terms with that. i'm trying to set the idea somewhere outside of my mind and somewhere more managable.
somewhere that doesn't make me cry every hour on the hour, or every five minutes if there happens to be babies anywhere in
my vacinity.
but it's just so hard.