so i'm outta the hospital, right? god, this place was not to be believed! it looked like jane fucking eyre lived there, along with mr. rochester and his crazy mother in the attic and all the rest. it was truly a forgotten place, not of this world. the building i was in was pretty shabby, it looked like it was maybe built in the 50's, painted that Bright Calm Aqua color that you'd never want in your home but was so easy to stare at, not too bad to focus on. it's a color associated with tropical climates.
there was a courtyard outside the building, this old overgrown quadrangle thing with white cobblestones covered with moss. and on the other side was this old, creepy brick mansion building that looked vacant.
as always, i met people. nurses, docs, therapists...they were all ok here. there was a puerto rican guy who kept trying to kiss me. he was annoying all the girls, actually, and pretended not to understand english. he kept calling me his "novia" and i would say, "no!! no! amiga!" what a hot dog!
there were some truly crazy folks...this one lady came and asked everyone for a cigarette every 2 seconds. she wouldn't take "no" for an answer. she would say, "gimme that cigarette in your mouth."
i heard a rumor that this other lady stripped down naked in the courtyard.
then there were j. and r....not that they're ever going to see this, but you know. some things are sacred. j. and r. had dated years and years ago, as teenagers...apparently from j.'s perspective, he'd seen her through some awful times. i guess they just lost contact...j. lived in new england somewhere or whatever, and i guess r. stayed around here. anyway, so as fate would have it, they both ended up randomly at the same time in the same random rehab/hospital. it was beautiful. they're both screwed-up but i would like to think that both of them found a familiar comfort in one another, and that j. really does take r. with him back to his beach house, and neither of them will want to hurt themselves again.
i feel bad that i didn't get to say goodbye. there really isn't a phone there i could call. when my ride home was ready, i booked it out the door, not even looking back. i hope he's not still crying, i hope the thing about his mom and brother wasn't real and that he's just delusional and will see them again very soon! people kept saying what a liar he was, but those tears were real. and r. was so sweet...they'd taken me in off a stretcher and i know i looked like frankenstein... and she was the first person to come up and say hi, and even give me a hug. she'd had some kind of brain injury-- she had trouble walking and talking sometimes. what a sweetheart this girl was though. i hope it works out for them. i wish i could see them again.

these stays are always bittersweet. i was only there for 2 days, but it kinda helped. it made me see that despite my bouts of rage, i am compassionate, likeable and...perhaps funny. well, sometimes. now i'm back at home, and p. is here for my mom of course, but i won't let the alienation get to me. i look forward to the place i go during the daytime, even if nobody knows me that well. i don't usually trust people too easily these days but when i grow fond of people, i am pretty loyal, long as they can stand me. the poor souls, lol.

so, it's late...i need to get rest i guess. i don't say "sleep" anymore b/c it's never a guarantee. i don't want to go to bed thinking about this man, in there. his story was incredible, and he truly had nobody to turn to, for years. that happens to a lot of us, i guess. it's like that neil gaiman story where the homeless people are basically invisible to everyone..."Neverwhere," that book was called.

i also don't want to think about my mother and p. in her room together.

i have to get well. i know everything will be better, once i stop hating myself, once my thoughts quiet down and slow down, and i am able to see what's true. these spirits keep dancing so close by, i can feel their compassion and desparation brush by me like silken robes. i see love, close by. i was always hanging out with couples. i was always like their child.

thank you for reading this.


don't let it bring you down,
it's only castles burning
just find someone who's turning
and you will come around.