a poem for a person that's not a poetry person

I like the shapes your name makes in space 

The pixel pathways that pop into my text message queue.

And the sound of you, too. Your distinct designation that gives no cacophonous resignation. Well, except your middle name which only few of us that know you know. 

You end in L. L is unfinished. It leaves you desiring to run into the next consonant. To splash against a vowel. It's shaped like a protractor. Designed to align. I end in L too--we have some things alike! And I cling to those as if it would uncover the secrets of why we are so chemically ignited. 

I know you were fired. 

You told me you would not be my friend anymore if I told anyone. I'm telling these pages. Ok, this screen. The same one that conjures up your name.  

I play name games and mad libs. I fill in the blanks that you won't ever spell out. I fill them with hopeful assumptions. That space your eyebrows raised and filled when I told you I have never taken a writing class. Were you surprised because I'm good? You never said. 

We took a new shape. Horizontal. Yes, I did know how long you had been waiting.

I made you wait hoping you would hear the patterns in my turns-of-phrase. That it would turn you on or make you turn to me and say, "Ali, how do you make words dance like that? They have so much fun. Teach me how to dance.” 

You did not want to dance. Ever. I sat against the wall waiting for you, but never told me you would. I led myself. I just kept stepping on my own feet hoping you’d notice when I laughed at my clumsiness. In a dress I knew you liked even if you didn’t say it.

I was lonely even when we were together. My legs and face my arms around you, my teeth on the trellis below your hip bone whispering into it like a wish that it’s my favorite part of your (non-brain) parts.

I wish when you saw my thoughts naked you looked at me like that. Your eyes and mouth full and nearly watering, your head cocked. Taking in my body that trembles at your touch. My mouth around words and not on your cock. "What did you think of the article I wrote?" You suddenly look confused.

I was like a child, to you. So much potential, so much untapped talent. So much enthusiasm that gathers like fizz on the top of a bottle before the top twists, escaping in the ether as soon as the party begins. 

confidence

I have to confide that when I looked up the definition of "confidence," I was surprised.

It is the feeling of reliance and firm trust in something or someone. I guess that makes sense, but what I was seeking was me. Confidence does not imply self-confidence, yet Google and Pinterest would argue otherwise. Here are some of the pins that surface when searching for "confidence":

"Walk like you have 3 men walking behind you."

"I don't dress up for boys. I dress up to stare at my reflection as I walk by store windows."

"Coffee in one hand, confidence in the other."

"Chin up, Princess, or the crown slips."

Although we have come a long way in terms of feminism and women's rights, it still feels like many women have to feel confidence by viewing it through the lens of our appearance as we or men may see us, or material wealth. When really, it is much deeper than skin, as the saying goes. I like the late Carrie Fischer's definition, as it applies to action:

"Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What's important is the action. You don't have to wait to be confident--just do it! And eventually the confidence will follow."

Have you changed any of your confident feelings or actions lately? I'd love to hear about it--I'm @alisonperrie.

losing yourself

A video posted by a p t (@alisonperrie) on Oct 6, 2015 at 4:48am PDT

I am in love and it is consuming.

I tried to find another example, but the only other one I can think of is addiction, and I have not been down the road far enough to tell you what I have seen there. But I imagine it is similar in that you are high and coasting and you lose yourself. You lose yourself by loving too much. You lose other things too. Earrings, for one. Entire conversations. My love spoke this weekend and the second sentence melted into ether as I noticed the dark velvet of his voice. And then the source of the sounds--his lips. And "I" as I knew it was gone. It feels like it is the first time--it is not. And this time, I would like to have some reverence for this love, some distance from this feeling. Staying present to it and observing it. What does it feel like? Using it in my everyday--my kindness towards others, my work, my love for myself. Remembering it by understanding it. Because this intensity only lasts up to 18 months, on average. 

In just the same way we lose our minds when something is painful--when we are hungry, or physically drained, we try like caged monkeys to escape the feeling...what would happen if we slowed down to observe it--to not squirm so much when it is uncomfortable. We are still here. And we can use that too. Oftentimes they are more useful than love, although it is not a prerequisite to be miserable to make interesting work. 

Whatever the feeling, look at it, observe it, feel it. Now act.

No seriously--go get dressed.

Break Up + Stay Whole

You and no one you love deserves half-hearted. Part ways and start wholly healing when reeling from a breakup.

Two days ago a friend asked what I was ridiculously good at.  I rattled off a few party tricks—I get kicks from 'pun'-demand wordplay to make others laugh. I can hold my own when I show up anywhere alone, and the evening seldom ends without a few new, semi-formed friendships. I realized where I tip the scale is relationships. Or rather, when they fail. Indeed, I am better than the norm at forming them—whether they come from co-working out of cafes, working out, or at Broadway plays. But more so, I am tremendous at ending the romantic ones gracefully.

I have dated as much as the next New York Girl next door and I could go on about my bestie-exes like the one I introduced to his wonderful now-wife. Or the time my boyfriend ended us right after the death of a very close friend.  But what is truly indicative--I have virtually no emotional scars from the men I used to call (or text) “boyfriend.”

There are only two times that this is vehemently inconvenient:

1. In cardio bootcamp class going blow for blow, I can not conjure up the face of an ex-beau I’d like to elbow

2. When I auto-play devil’s advocate when what a recently-split friend really needs is a fellow broken angel, ice cream, and empathy. 

Cutting the strings from former flings, lovers and undercover jerks, though, has its perks. There are very few things in this life that can cost the amount of emotional strife like a love lost but not gone. The sooner you realize and release the tie that no longer bonds, the quicker your hands are free to create a stronger knot. One that lasts longer too… (was that a knotty joke? Who knew?)

Hopefully, this lyrical listicle below will show you four ways in which to heal your heart and safely part ways from a relationship that needs to set sail.

1. Is it Toxic? Talk It Out

Ask him in your mind, “What value do you add to me?” Write out all the ways he packs or lacks meaning in your future world. Maybe there is enough reason there to have him hold space in some way in a non-romantic-someday. Or maybe you will run into him with mutual friends or at an event. That is when it is worth it to have a talk with intention.

A warning: this conversation will never cause elation. When I tried to get an ex-BF back, I got nostalgic but he was stalling. And if he was not gung-ho about giving it another go, there was a reason. Instead of easing into it, I  said to hell with it:

“Tell me you’re not in love with me."

I needed to hear my biggest fear affirmed. And when he locked eyes with me confirming he no longer felt the same way, I nodded, turned, and trod into a dramatic sheet of rain. Yes, even the weather, mocked my pain. There was no going back after that. Call it pride, but I raged inside: "My heart will never be charity…I. will NEVER. beg someone to love me.” 

Sorry, Julia, but that is not the way it works. I knew no matter how much it hurts, I would be asking for something he could not supply--like asking a vagrant if he could lend me a five. 

2. Space Yourself

One of my favorite quotes is this by Steven Johnson, a physicist: "Your thoughts fill your spaces and your spaces return the favor". Do yourself one—erase your home, work, and digital spaces of your old love. The latter is key; if he is out of websites he is out of mind. Just for now. Try ninety days. Unfollow, unfriend, block, untumbl. It is not mean, it is a means to an end to your mental and emotional suffering. If you can not bear to throw away his old t-shirt, place in a box and inconveniently push it out of view. Or do what I did if you are able, cut it up and use it to polish your table. 

3. Be an Army of Some

Though I might croon the tune in karaoke, I disagree with Bon Jovi--Love isn't a battlefield.  Breakups are. If your state-of-being OK lines are compromised, regain grounded by bringing in the troops. Your best friend, mother, and therapist can all be your enlisted help in getting you through the hell. I had my friends give me a 5 minute limit to ex-talk-it-out. Then they had to change the subject. Or better yet, scenery. Go find greenery--pick apples together. Seek out your danciest friend and go watch some DJ’s spin. Aquacycle. Volunteer to go walk dogs. When the ex-texts come rolling in, don’t react and get off track. Get a distraction and a friend.

4. Take ‘You' Time

Did I mention breakups were a war? More like a war-on-wheels with hills--ups and downs andviews along the way that you strain to see and not be distracted by the fact that you could get struck at any time and spin out of control. Slow your roll and be present. Give yourself ‘gifts’ like making your bed, or Mean Girl memes, or take in a show you have always wanted to see. Show yourself how you should be loved. And eat well. Be kind to your body and your mind will follow. But beware, your ex may too...I honestly googled, “How to make someone want you back” post-breakup. I broke down the 30K results and they do not come as a surprise: exercise and move on.

The irony is if the opportunity some day presents itself for you to re-convene, you have taken the space to respond from a more clear-headed place. And if you still have a lot to say, get it out of the way in the form of a letter. Don’t hit send--keep it for yourself, tucked away on a shelf. Be selfish.

If you do the above, it will be no time at all until you happen to run into them at a holiday party. Maybe he is there with someone. Maybe he’s alone. My guess is that he’ll rattle on about some recent career successes. Perhaps you will swap platonic Facebook-worthy new ways you have been filling your days. But do not be surprised if you don't get a rise, and the most shocking thing about your interaction is your lack of reaction. And maybe after a gin or a wine, a genuine goodwill fills you for his latest good fortunes.

Remember that every lover that comes and goes shapes and hones your experience in their path. As you redefine what it means to be fine, you are sharpening your worldview and paving the way for new relationships to shape and take form.