my truth on the line

I think I used to be an iceberg and now I'm a flock of starlings. I think I used to love you with your truth on the line and now it's mine.
I bet this means I'm growing into my version of reality, of ethics. This is the wine talking but it doesn't make it less true: I am real.
The wine, which is a reward because I've made it through a week and the dishwasher is humming. I had some scattershot days when none of my bones made sense. I think it's probably just hormones, but I really am pretty good sometimes at looking at a beautiful porcelain plate and only seeing the places a crack might form.
I tell myself I don't want to be fixed when I'm clumsy and irritating and volatile. I tell myself that I just need to pull inward, spend three hours, four, five, alone by the side of the highway. I tell myself the salt at the bottom of a bag of pretzels is what will help. I tell myself that turning the lock on the door and soaking up to my neck in the hot bathwater is the right choice. It's not. I won't say it doesn't help. But it's not going to cut my craving so much as changing its dimensions. Better that I sit in the late afternoon sun and tear down my defenses to let music sink into my soul. Better that I stay even when I just want to run and let myself be pulled 'round to burgers and fries and beer and I genuinely like you and you, well, you. And the ambush kisses? The reverence with which you view me as the most wonderful sort of challenge? This is how you take the shit that's clouding my mind and flush it down the toilet.
So I make it through the week. I end it with an evening of the best sort of family--all of mine is--and after a meal and a walk around the neighborhood and an under-the-moon talk I am here, with a clean kitchen that smells of onions and with a half glass of wine beside me where I sit on the floor.
Where was I going with this? I thought I had a thesis. I've... never mind. Cheese, tacos, Elbow, bleach, bikes, keys. I have put myself through a lot these last few days. I think I like the fact that I know this.