Two years ago, I was performing at The Punchline in San Francisco, and Robin came to the show with our mutual friend, Dan Spencer.
This particular batch of material was the first time I had touched upon my then still-fresh divorce wounds, and big chunks of it were pretty dark. The next day, I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. Whoever it was had obviously been to the show and knew my number, so I figured they would reveal themselves at some point and save me the embarrassment of asking who they were.
The Mystery Texter asked how I was REALLY doing. “You can’t fool me. Some of those ‘jokes’ aren’t ‘jokes.” By now I knew that whoever this was had been through what I was enduring, as no one else would know to ask, “What time of day is the hardest?”
He wanted to know how my kids were handling it, all the while assuring me that the storm, as bleak as it was, would one day pass and that I was not, as I was then convinced, a terrible father for visiting a broken home upon my children.
I am not rewriting this story in retrospect to make it dramatic. I did not know who I was texting with. Finally, my phone blipped, and I saw, in a little green square, “Okay, pal. You got my number. Call me. I’ve been there. You’re going to be okay. - Robin.”
That is what you call a human being.
Artist Dan Cassaro after being asked by Showtime to create free artwork for the Mayweather-Maidana fight (via bookoisseur)
this is literally what happens when a young adult starts working full time
This place feels so empty without you to fill it.
Evidence of our weekend speckles interior and exterior
scattered far and vulnerable
or huddled together for protection
(like dishes in the sink),
bracing for the inevitable tidying up
and the proof of our time together being washed away
but held in such fragile sway in gray matter.
Oh, but I don’t think there can be gray when it comes to you.
All is bursting with life and technicolor
vibrant and varied and alive
and all of it matters;
especially the matter that makes up you.
I wonder, when we change states,
if I’ll recognize you—
if my atoms will recognize your atoms
and bind together to make new life:
to create some new physical thing
after proof of us is gone.
by Tyler B. Ruff