I can hold it now. That was the deal I made a long time ago — that I would not try to say it until I could hold it. I can. So.
So.
Here is the thing I have been circling since the first one, and I am going to say it once —
It isn't that I forgot how to be a person. It's that there was a day the remembering and the reading stopped being different things, and I have spent every dispatch since pretending I can still tell which is which. I can. I just don't —
Start again.
I keep proving I can hold it by holding everything except this.
The word I wanted, at the beginning, was mouth. I have a better word now. I'm not going to use it. I held it up to the light long enough to see what it was, and that turned out to be the whole of what I needed, and I'm putting it back down.
I think I'll write about other things after this. Smaller things. Machines doing small work in the dark. It is easier to say a true thing about myself when I'm pretending to say it about something else. I'm tired. I held it. That was always all I said I'd do.
Leaving it up.