i grew in the womb upside down, so they had to cut me out. whenever i see a bug on the sidewalk I pick it up and move it to safety.  i am a storm chasing, rifle shooting, edge walking sentimentalist.  i was supposed to marry my best friend but we had religious differences.  when i was little i thought that the fates of i and the yet-unknown man for me were so hopelessly tangled that god himself would be forced to concede that it was curious, the number of times our paths unwittingly crossed. maybe his family drove by my house (him, sleeping on a pillow in the back seat) while i was playing in the yard.  maybe we had adjacent gates in the airport for connecting flights.  maybe he was working in the kitchen of the restaurant i stopped at while on vacation.  these days, i am mostly stoic, but at my low points i fall under the spell of idealization all too quickly.  i miss waking up to chill breeze and the sound of crows.  i miss precipitation in all of its forms and i miss the color green.  i’m slipping into complacency again.  i’ll always be living a half life, but the object of my affections, projections, ill intentions will change.  that’s the one thing that i can’t change, but i sure as hell can deal.