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Monday, October 26, 2015

Making Sense

Thinking of whether or not this new mindset makes sense in my life. If something happens to either you or me, would this all make sense as the last breath in our lungs departs?

Thinking of how you caught me at the last minute to say goodbye before I left that night. When that last breath is slowly trickling out, will you or I regret standing there sans hug or handshake or smile?

Did you walk or run to find me before I walked out?
Did you think the dialogue would have been different?
If there was any thought of ending on a high note, why disappear after my departure?
I'm tired of trying to connect your actions with the feelings that you seem to have, that you make me feel.

The thinking is endless because I find our behavior so thwarting. We are on this path of discovery and growth and improvement and potential, but we can't stop being awkward around one another. I am also guilty of attempting safe, mundane, conversation.

We were never friends to begin with, I don't think we would have become friends on our own. I've realized you are too calm for me. I am too jittery for you. Yet, we're still alive in each other's universe. The possibility exists: friendship.

The new mindset tells me it can happen. While the realistic, pessimist mindset tells me we are just playing pretend. We are on this growth journey until it gets uncomfortable. Then we excuse ourselves with chants of, "I have moved on, we don't need to go back now." Sounds logical until I think of kindness, forgiveness, repentance and letting go. Truly letting go.

Is letting go ignoring you and not remembering you live? Or attempting to add you back into life as something improved?

All I hope is that, when that last breath is out, I can rest easy. I hope not to think, "I had it all wrong."

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Love Notes III

Can I go back in time and not know you?

I wonder how that would change things now.

Would I still feel the void I feel now, after knowing you?

Or illusion a better "now" would happen if I met you in real life?

As I did.
As I thought.

Life was changed.
Love was had.
Memories still burn.

Would we had been better off not bumping into one another that night? The next day? That evening?

Even after all this time, and the moments we have had, one thing remains true...

You want me.
I want you.

I still love you.
And so do you.

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Love Notes II

While I remember you with joy, passion and sometimes also sadness, I do think of you with anger. 

I remember how you pointed out what a mess my life was on more than one occasion. It shamed me. I felt embarrassed by admitting it because, indeed, my life is a mess. 

Is it really an excuse to say the mess is not half-created by me? 
That I care for others and cannot control their actions, which inherently affect mine? 

If I use that excuse it's easy to say I can choose not to be the caregiver and walk away from the mess. That would make my life much easier, but is it realistic? 

No. I can't just walk away, and that's what hurt me about your judgement. 

To me your life was a mess too, you know? 

There was structure that only made sense to you, ideas that seemed effervescent,  difficulty in communication without interrogation, you were not mess free- and I accepted that. 

I did not point it out; and while I know you accepted my mess, the simple fact that you felt it necessary to make it tangible hurt me. When I remember that I feel less guilty about asking to end things. 

I remember that you're not perfect after all, even if my heart tells me you might be. 

(Originally written in 2013)

Love Notes

Today is one of those days. 
I miss you a lot, the thought of you. 

In my head I think I've made you into a greater being, but then I think my imagination is perhaps not too far from the truth.

I miss your Hugo Boss t-shirt, the one I liked to sleep in, it was so "you" because it was a normal shirt, a normal man; but soft and structured, high end, well-crafted, loyal. A good t-shirt, a good man. 

I miss your mouth. I miss that mouth constantly. Your mouth and your explosive kisses. When I look at other mouths, new mouths, they don’t help me to forget yours whatsoever. That mouth ignited those hands that grabbed with the right pressure. 

I miss your freshly washed hair, brushed back, and how your cheekbones seemed to pop out even more with that spy-dandy hairdo. 

Most, I miss is that heart that was so passionate, yet calm. 

I miss you a lot today. It's just one of those days.

(Originally written in 2012)