Where do we begin to get clean again?

I got back from Phoenix two days ago, and it was a mixed blessing.

The pros: I got to see Adam. I'm weaning myself off the rush that the happiness he brings to me ... basically, I'm realizing that just because he makes me deeply happy and I love him an incredible amount doesn't mean we're meant to be together by any stretch of the imagination. We're very different in some of the most important ways, and I know that. I do. I should move to Portland and marry some of the fine specimens of man I see that meander this way from there. Ha.

I got a new tattoo. Nine birds in flight over my foot. I love it, for a lot of reasons. One) watching birds as a kid was one of my favorite things to do. I would sit alone on the roof of my mom's Karmann-Ghia and believe fiercely that I could see the curvature of the earth as I watched the birds descend over it. I miss being close to the sea. Two) There's nine, which is a lucky number in general. Three) Two of my all time favorite songs are Blackbird and Bluebird, by the Beatles and Johnny Lee Hooker, respectively.

And damn, they compliment the shape well. ;)

The downside was how overwhelmed I felt towards the end. I didn't want to come home. I've never been so close to turning my car in the other direction and forgetting this life to start a new one. Finals, this internship, all the projects and papers due. My surgery.

The surgery is, naturally, is the one drop that is throwing off the tension of my maxed-out water glass and making it spill over. I'm scared to be thin. I don't want to be looked at. Being fat is a defense mechanism if I've ever known one. I can say what I want, dress as I want, eat what I want, and people don't say a word. If anything, they avoid looking directly at me, and that suits me just fine. I don't like being the center of attention, despite my zodiac sign (leo).

I just like to fade into the backround. To watch. Make someone laugh occasionally. But just be. I know the root, as sure as I know my own overpaced heartbeat. When I was a kid, I was the focus of everything spiteful my community had to throw at us. My mother was not only a single mom in an upscale suburban neighborhood, but she was a drunk. A loud drunk, who would fight with her black (here is where you gasp) boyfriend until the cops called. We had a damn cop living right across the street and he would be hesitant to let me in to his house to use the phone and call 911! I don't ever want to be looked at again, sometimes.

So this surgery is terrifying because it's bringing with it the upswelling of a childhood fear, as illogical as I know it sounds.

We'll see how it goes.

I have a paper to write. I hope this finds you happy.