My Lu.

Here it is. Straight from my guts.

I met Lu 8 years ago. Was coming off of another woman-using expedition. Was willing then, at that moment to give up the girl-needle. My quick-fix. My escape. My solution to all things fucked up. We spent so many hours just hanging out. Talking, walking. Trusting, finally. Walking Bonnie around the lake.  She was/is like the Mother that actually pushed me forth into the world. She even sorta looks like me. Our meanings in one another’s lives got convoluted, cloudy and misconstrued. Figured it out, though, with the help of a man so loving and kind that you’d just not believe it if I tried to tell you. Lu is my resting place. My comfort zone. My landing pad. My POC (parent of choice). I go over to London to escape the falling down around me. Failures, I have many. But this area, this business of her not knowing-ness is inconceivable. If I had a million hands, a million hearts, a million words, a million expressions of this English language, I’d tell her. But I can’t. I can’t permeate the thick skin that she too, has acquired from days of youth. Kindred, yes. All the very three of us. But it is Lu whom I shall always need. Always reach for. I can’t help it.
She’s what I thought I’d get. She’s everything a mother is.

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