a list of my bad habits.

by Michael King

In no particular order, an incomplete list of the bad habits I’ve discovered:

  • lugging warm laundry back to my apartment, setting the hamper to the floor boards, and never quite getting around to putting the clothes away
  • during temporary stays, identifying a ‘space’ for my things, usually in the living room, and casually expanding it throughout my stay
  • buying produce –– peppers, strawberries, potatoes –– and failing to eat it before it withers
  • balking at the idea of spending thirty dollars on something useful while casually dropping thirty-five on dinner and drinks
  • telling every story that pops into my mind, neurons firing as I’m listening, and feeling certain, each time, it’s right to do
  • granting myself permission to disappear on rainy days
  • revisiting the scars in my story, wresting that tissue apart, mining old wounds for meaning
  • remembering the people who left, in vibrant detail
  • bargaining with my body through healing processes –– dancing on sore ankles, running with a scratchy throat and feverish forehead
  • practicing the same impatience when it’s my spirit that needs healing
  • getting so swept up in passion for my perspective that I forget to listen
  • building a case against the people who’ve hurt me, evidence with razor-sharp edges
  • building a case for myself, keeping tally sheets of the times my love has borne fruit, as though this will undo the other tally sheet I can’t stop keeping, the scars I’ve inflicted in my recklessness
  • believing I will keep myself safe from pain by negotiating myself down from the things I really want
  • putting the dishes off until the sink is full and daunting
  • insisting on pushing the conversation into territory that interests me –– what’s heavy, what’s hurting, burning hope, hollow grief, searing pain
  • falling in love with the idea of somebody and pitting their reality against their potential
  • deciding almost any setback is cause to order Chinese food, wrap up in blankets, and watch a movie
  • convincing myself I am impossible to know
  • running my hardest for people who demand the chase
  • leaving cabinets and closet doors wide open, their contents peering out blankly
  • watering plants only once they’ve begun to droop
  • tabling hard decisions until the last possible moment
  • spending the first thirty minutes of my day in bed, scrolling through my phone, watching minutes dissolve

MK

Advertisements