Valentine's Day 2007

Monday, February 12, 2007

My phone is always within hear-shot
At constant touch if silent
Ready for a call from you or everyone else
You’d think things have calmed down by now
You’d think the dust would settle

I still can’t see my hand at my face

Not that I would need eyes to see you
Or ears to hear your voice
Your scent
Your rhythm

We just know

Is it wrong to talk about such things so soon?
It is taboo to talk about the future with only countless I love you’s tallied
Taboo to talk about children?
And how they will have Mohawks and tiny leather jackets?
Aviator shades and the combined attitudes of their fathers?
Your temper?
My cool?

Talks about how I’ll get a call from the neighbors when I get home from work
Saying that dad and the little ones were once again up to no good
I’ll go over there and fix their window
No TV for them
No me for you
Not tonight 
I’m tired from work and fixing that goddamn window
You owe me a backrub anyway

If this dust should ever settle
If our path finally or suddenly becomes clear to us
We just might find that
In vision granted
We’ll be exactly where we needed to be

And if it doesn’t
I would willingly wander aimlessly blind, deaf and disoriented
So long as I know that it’s your hand I feel
Holding mine

Balloon Project: We Have Lift-Off

225 Red Balloons. I found that putting the message IN the balloon was better. It would/will keep the message dry without the added weight of the plastic bag.  I am a little worried that I won't get the response, but we'll see. Like a message in a bottle, but in a balloon. I'll keep you posted.

Life takes some unexpected turns. It will knock you down. It will fool you into making choices that you will wish you hadn't made. Life is a prankster. 

I can't lose sight either, of the fact that Life is also wise. It is kind and it is giving.  It gives second chances. I loves people who have faith.

Have a cornucopia of things going on here as of late. Personal stuff that makes me weary and tests my resolve.

I am in love. Always will be.

That's all I have for now, but I promise I'll be back with something worth-while soon enough.

The Balloon Project

Sometimes as adults we are inspired by the things we did as children. Such is the case with the Balloon Project. 

I will be sending hundreds of messages, each one containing not only it's individual message, but a piece of a puzzle and a link to here, up in balloons. Hundreds of balloons, each one carrying a piece of me.

What I get back will be interesting. It may compose a poem, a story, maybe just a series of random postings. I won't know, until I compile and post. 

I know full well that what is sent out will not all return, but I would like to see what does come back and how it comes together. 

I'll keep you posted. 

D

Sometimes life is an asshole.

Sick and tired of being sick and tired. 

So very sick. So very tired.

Life stands still. 

Expect to see more here soon. 

very soon.

No matter what he has done. No matter what between us transpired. No matter the truth in it's dual-sided entirety. I love him. My love is true. Always has been.

In Disgrace

The trouble with trust, is that once broken, you will always and forever be guilty, no matter what.

I did a terrible thing. It broke his trust.

I stand now accused of other crimes the nature of which I am not privy to.
The trouble with trust is that once broken, you will always and forever be guilty.
I don't even care to defend myself.
I don't even want to.

He needs what he needs. He wants what he wants.
I will, as I have always done, love him enough to give him what he wants.

Neither of which, is me. Neither of which is my love.
He will move on. He will forget the love that was there.
He will survive.
He will live a long and full life, with love and happiness around him.

He will forget the love story.
The tiny moments will fade, the memory will disappear.
The whispers before bed, the mumm and rar, will never come from him again.
He will forget me.

There will be no treasure map to save us.

Someone will come. Someone he will love. It won't be me.

I know how it will work for him and I know how it will work for me.

I will not love again.
I will forever remember every day. I will remember every hour and every physicality.
His eyes, the beautiful eyes that saw me with such love.
Every memory is etched in not only my mind, rather my very being.
I am of emotion. It is who I am.
I will hear his voice and shun happiness.
I will know what was to have loved pure.
I will strike out angered by love.
Marred by her diseased sense of humor.

I will lay my head nightly only to hear
him call me his forever baby. To hear his words in the darkness when I am alone.


I will always love Jonathan. I will always love no other.
I know it sounds incipid. Dramatic.
Believe me, it is indeed the truth.
A truth I'd rather not live to suffer.

They say time heals all wounds.
They don't know me. They don't know what it is to love.
I know time will pass. I know the initial pain will subside.
I know day to day will resume.
This I know.
I also know that each and every one of those days,
the days for the rest of forever, I will think of him.
I will spend longing for him.
I will spend begging Heaven.
It will move from the knife in my soul it is today to a spike in my heart,
a dull, aching pain of a wound that will not heal.
I'd rather not live to suffer that.

"There is no part of me that wants anything to do with you."

Love has taken him.
Is there no treasure map?

In The End Of All Things

I am nothing now.

I have many questions to which I fear there will be no answer.
What happened to us? To the man I love so deep? To me?

I crowd my heart's hollow chambers with questions.
I have no answers.

I beg still for the sleep.