Monday, May 28, 2012

We're UP UP to Twenty-Four Page-Views

Coming Out

By Ben Murphy

            Here’s how a person let’s the world in and themselves out, becoming the person they always were and had to be: By telling your dad he needs to drive you 2,000 miles across the vast landscape of the United States and by photographing red rocks and brown cows along the way; by admitting the need for help while surrounded by family under the orange-glow of your aunt’s backyard fire and by accepting your newly adopted cousin’s temper when she tells you “you aint actin’ right,” and by actually hearing advice and saying “okay” when your older cousin tells you when you need it most that life is the ordeal and by taking a deep, slow breath; by checking your wet bags in the rain before stepping on the white Greyhound bus;  by looking into the opposite sex’s eyes and searching in them for something deeper that you think can’t be that far away but always is just an inch beyond your stretched fingers and by dragging the cable box from your small apartment to her attic-like home and back again; by literally forgetting all the tiny idiosyncrasies that shape you; by crunching up the pictures and letters you knew were for you but just didn’t look like they used to before your mind and heart separated and spoke out against the thought of being really happy and by sobbing deeply and by power-walking over a mile with grocery bags digging into your fingers because they are filled with a weeks worth of food and you tell yourself that because you feel warmth from the setting sun that this is normal and but at least your attractive and by not admitting that maybe there’s something holier at work here; by answering “yes” to a salty question your now quenched ears finally accept and even enjoy and by not taking it so damn seriously and by having another tasty shot of Irish-Whiskey after tasty shot; by contemplating a brand-new but old dream/wish and turning your energies inward 180 degrees and calmly putting your right foot in front of your left foot and knowing because your sitting in your poverty stricken neighborhood, in a dilapidated apartment with a person (your mom) who hasn’t changed one iota that with a little down-to-the-bare-bones-no-sad-bullshit-work that you can be you be you being you, after all. 

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