nostalgia.

i just got an email from the woman who subsidized much of my time in cleveland announcing that she was returning to cleveland after two years in mozambique. actually, there was a wonderful group of women there who held me close, even if they let me think that i was doing stuff on my own. and i was struggling a lot when i lived there, but they were all there, mostly not judging, sharing their homes and their beautiful lives with this improbable young woman who somehow managed to enter into this circle of women who made my jaw drop, who made me believe for the first time in my life that i could be doing work that inspired me, that it was possible to build a life based on this thing called community and that lovers and partners came and went, but at the end of the day, it was something loud and funky on the stereo that we all could sing to and dance to if we wanted, late night cooking, cloves on the porch, popeyes and fresh lemonade on the homemade patio in the back, and just love, sometimes contentious love, but love. and i tried very hard to hold my own, but am okay with the realization that sometimes, a woman in her early twenties has nothin' on women in their mid-thirties who have lived lives that are just breathtaking, these women who represent all different shades and definitions of success, and i loved them all. and was just a little bit in awe of them. still am, mostly, if only because i have yet to meet comparable matches anywhere else. more than once, i found myself thinking, yes, this is the life i want. this is the life i want to create. and it still is, really. it still is.

i miss these women. i miss knowing that they were watching out for me. i miss their physical presence, their hugs. i miss looking into their eyes and knowing that they were looking out for me. i miss their looks of incredulity when i wondered out loud if i would ever get there. i miss how safe they made me feel, because nothing i've ever experienced is as strong as the bond of women who choose to love each other. not that they were lovers, although everyone had their doubts and fantasies. i might've had one or the other, but after living with them, i'm pretty sure nothing much happened besides a lot of talk and the occassional baths together in the winter time. the rainbow colored flag outside didn't really help the rumours, but i think it was more obstinance rather than anything else that kept that there. just, i was lucky to have had these women take me under their wing and i was wide-eyed for most of the time. incredibly lucky. and i know it. and i miss them. as desperate as i felt during most of the time i spent there in a job that wasn't exactly right for me, with hours that were not at all good for me, in a relationship that covered too many miles for me to ever really feel home in that physical space, i want to pluck some moments and keep them safe from all of that. cleveland wasn't right for me. but i love that city. and i know i love it because of these women. i think they'd make just about anyone love that place.

and has it really been two years? i guess it has. i stayed a bit longer than the doctor did, but two years is pretty accurate for when the community had to change into something else other than what it was for most of the time i lived in cleveland. i never thought i'd miss cleveland so much when i was living there. but these women. god. these women. who are still doing their thing, still searching, still defining, still living and loving so hard. it's spring in dc, which feels more or less like summer in cleveland, and more than anything, what i want right now is to be able to go home to that big sprawling house with its wonderful shades of color and wonderful stove and huge bathtub and wooden floors and smelly dog and crazy cat and lovely lovely women and just sit there and take it all in. just one more time. and my mouth would be open just a little bit, and i'd probably be smoking a cigarette, and the doctor wouldn't judge at all - she'd just say, "i think everything's fine in moderation". and they would just keep passing me food, laughing at how much i can eat, and their hands would be outstretched, holding out love, knowing how much love i needed to sustain me. and they never ran out. these are the women who taught me about grace, who taught me about good food, really really good food, who taught me about standing up, about fighting hard for what you want, about asking for what you need. these beautiful, sexy, brilliant women. of course i miss them. of course. they're the women you see and think to yourself that they just keep getting more and more beautiful. they're the women who make your jaw drop sometimes. and they were my women. my lovely women in cleveland. and i was just this person balancing between girl and woman, tripping along behind them taking notes in my steno pad i had shoved in my hip pocket. and they are still talking about what kind of trouble they can get themselves into, and that makes me smile more than anything.