The Eve Before More Surgery

I’m having surgery again tomorrow, but unlike last time, I’m not afraid because I already know what to expect.  Nonetheless, I’m not particularly thrilled about it, although it will be better to go through the surgery than to avoid it.

The surgery I had before, and the one that I’m having again, isn’t super serious; it’s purely a dermal procedure to ensure that I don’t have skin cancer and that I don’t develop it from what’s been considered atypical.  Despite this, the fact that I have to get surgery “to be safe” and “to check” for these things has confronted me with mortality more than before. Then, a month after my first surgery, my cousin was killed, which was devastating in itself while also further contributing to these thoughts about mortality.

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St. Elmo’s Fire

You shift in your sleep, your knee moving to rest against my thigh.  I stiffen as you exhale and tuck your head beneath the crook of my neck.  I tentatively inhale, your hair tickling my nose.  I’m enveloped in your scent as I lie here, awake in your bed.  Acoustic rock had lulled us to sleep, and later, had woken us up.  You must’ve turned it off at some point.

I want to roll over, but I’m afraid to move.  More than that, I’m afraid you’ll move away.  I would prefer to remain close to you, but I’m still unsure if that’s where you want me to be.  I’m also unsure if I would be crossing a boundary if I got closer.

You roll over, turning away from my neck.  I roll over to face the wall.  Your leg, however, finds mine again.

© 2016 Vic Romero

 

Not a Hollow Halloweekend

Since the fallout with my friend, I’ve been waiting to feel crappy about it, but I haven’t.   Granted, I was very upset for about a week and I had nightmares, but that was it.  I think about her once in awhile, mostly when I’m drinking, but that will diminish over time.

Perhaps I haven’t been so devasted because I subconsciously saw it coming.  We hadn’t talked much in last few months, the love I had for her was too intense to last, and/or the conflict of interest there was due to her relationship with her best friend…but at the same time, I didn’t think these things would result in the finiteness of our friendship.  I believed that if anything, we just wouldn’t be as close, which was okay with me.  Instead, however, we don’t talk at all.  She hasn’t reached out to me nor has she responded to my texts, even the ones where I was clearly upset.  It’s reminiscent of how my ex iced me out over two years ago now.

It may also be because I’ve been busy with school, my other friends, and that I have other more pressing concerns.

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Almost Three Years Later

Yesterday (11 Oct) was National Coming Out Day, which caused me to think about my late cousin.  She was the first family member I came out to and the second person I told overall, and she insisted my parents would still love me if I was able to fall in love with women.  I miss her every day.  She was so easy to talk to and never judged me for whatever crazy shenanigans I was getting myself into.

Anywho, I didn’t write anything new to celebrate National Coming Out Day, but I attached the link to the post that includes the texts I sent to my cousin about my sexuality here.  Unfortunately, I didn’t include her responses…I’m sure I have them on my old phone or laptop, but I don’t have those items with me now.

For other “coming out” posts, you can just search that phrase on my website.  There is a variety of poetry, stories, and blogs about my journey, which has been difficult and long…it doesn’t feel over either.  Since the relationship that spurred me to come out in the first place ended two years ago now (wow, time flies), and since I’ve moved out of the house for most months of the year due to university, I sometimes feel like my sexuality has been…erased.

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Quitting Smoking

Maybe we caught fire too soon

Blazed too bright

Burned too quickly

To realize-

We were too hot to last.

We burned ourselves out,

As fast as we ignited

 

You used to make me so excited.

My love for you brightened my mood

Until you sucked out all my oxygen,

Leaving me gasping for breath.

I have nothing left to give

 

At some point, you left me alone

In the dark

Fingers singed from holding onto our fire

For far too long

Because I was hoping you would return

To reignite our spark

 

But not anymore.

I’m walking out of this smoky,

Ashy room

And slamming shut the door

Behind me.

 

Time for fresh air.

 

© 2016 Vic Romero

I Think About You Everyday

I’ve been rather depressed since my cousin’s passing.  Depressed, scared, and pensive about morbid things.

I’ve been thinking about death…what was it like for my cousin to die?  It makes me feel bad to think about that since the accident was so violent…but it also makes me sad to think about how her last feeling may have been fear. It hurts me to think she may have been in pain too, although the doctor said she died upon impact, but who really knows?  Maybe they said it for our sake.

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Your Last

I hope your last emotion wasn’t fear.
Did you see it coming?
I hope your last sight wasn’t the glaring headlights.
Did you run?

I hope your last touch wasn’t the hard metal
Nor the rough pavement against your cheek

I hope the last thing you heard wasn’t the roar of the engine
Nor your roommate shrilly screaming your name.

I hope your last taste wasn’t the blood that flooded your mouth.
Did it choke you?
I hope your last smell wasn’t the burning rubber when the truck left you behind
Did you suffer?

I hope you didn’t.

© 2016 Vic Romero

My cousin was killed crossing the street on 3 September 2016.

Twenty years with you doesn’t feel like enough time, but I’m grateful to at least have that. Chris, thank you for being my big sister, I love you. RIP.