Date Knight

Pssst! Hey you.

Yes, you!

“Beautiful lady. My hopes. My dreams. Rest on your bosom. As does my head. It’s tired. Oh, so tired. Why just the other day my fantasy-mind created vast, improbably worlds filled with you and I. But alas, I am weary. And do not find the strength to tarry on with this burden.”

“My darling, darling boy. Your eyes, so pure. Your heart, so bright. Do not let the darkness overtake thee. While I cannot ease the weight of the history shouldered, I do offer respite. Rest. Recouperation. Heh. Heh. A pun? Prithee,  do not tell tall tales.”

“Pirates be damned!” he shouted, sword in hand. “I shall sail seven times seventy seas for your hand –  betrothed in mine. Our cells, comingling as commrades do whilst sharing the riches of the lands. Communists of the heart, we shall forever be – from henceforth out we depart..”

“Dearest, dearest, boy. Your heart so full of fantastic beasts. lost. Now do your part.”

 

season of passage

Hey you,

Do you remember when I loaned you that book to read? We were just beginning to reconnect again after years of dancing precariously on the precipice of friends and lovers.

We jumped. Do you remember? We held hands and laughed as the wind whipped our faces. Those onlookers with their stares and judgement we ignored. It was you and me. Against the world. Against the odds.

You sent me quotes from our favorite shows. You sent me quotes from Shakespeare. You sent me poetry from Pablo Neruda. All to show me how much you loved me. It wasn’t a red flag. To me it was a man at a loss for words. I too sometimes have trouble expressing my true feelings.

I can still feel the shape of you. The tactile memories of running my fingers across your forehead and through your hair as your eyes became heavy with sleep. Your vulnerability at those moments broke through my own walled-off heart. When I kissed your forehead there was no monster there.

I know you. You let me in. Behind the bravado and facade. And I’ll never forget that you.

As we enter another eclipse tonight, I like to think of that day we stood along a highway watching the moon cover the sun. The ying and yang together for a brief moment. I know we loved each other more than we were able to express. More than we could handle.

Our love opened our old wounds, and our hearts being the fixers they are would try to heal the other by fusing together. And every time one of us would pull away it would break that new, delicate skin and re-open the wound. We bled too much. We became anemic. But like all scars, each time I look at my heart I think of you and the time we shared.

I no longer am clinging to you out of fear. Our ship was destroyed long ago. Instead of crying as I look at the wreckage, I hug you tight one last time and then push off you with all the strength, releasing myself out into space as the sun dims the moon.

I love you. You were the bear spaceship all along.

Fireworks (shot in the dark)

Hey you! Did you have a good birthday?! Did she bring you a chocolate cupcake with chocolate chips and chocolate cream on the inside?! Are you happy? I hope so. You know, I never wanted to live here. In this house ….with cobwebs and hauntings and memories. But I do and I’m still breathing. Always breathing. That’s what YOU taught me. That when the waves crash too hard and too fast you trust that you’ll get a reprieve. That no matter how much you feel like you’re drowning they will pass. And in that moment of calm you take a big, deep BREATH (silly don’t make it an innuendo 😉 lol) and you brace yourself for the next round.

Moonlight Sonata. Moonlight Vertigo. Moonlight. My dear you will always be my gravity. You will always be home.

41 suns across the universe. 41 ways to say I love you. 41 ways to leave your lover.

My light is on. Always. Should you ever find yourself a weary traveler, I offer respite.

Despite.

The damage to my ego.

I was once a cool girl too. Until I became insecure and fell in love with sociopathic tendencies.

We both did.

But my love lingers.

Like your gaze.

41 red balloons. And my love.

Fly, you fool

I love you

 

My musings on Kavanaugh and memory

Oh, America! You land, you, of dreams and opportunity! Where just a little elbow grease primes our hardworking arms to pull us up by the boot straps.

Or pull off the boots with forceful arms.

The same arms wrapped like a tourniquet around the veins of justice. You feel the heartbeat. The pulse. Resistance only makes you squeeze harder.

Power and control. And in the distance, truth watches. Not as a voyeur. But bound and gagged.

Hey, Pssst! Tis of thee? Do you remember me?

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“Yeah, I would say you do. Remember that night? The one on the trampoline? Where we were jumping and I was happy to have a guy pay attention to me? Me! Truth. The one who was always a third wheel. It felt nice to have you think of me. Until —-You pinned my arms down and wouldn’t let me get up. You were pressing against me. I told you to stop. You didn’t.”

“Hmm? Can you give me the exact date this happened? I’m having trouble placing you,” he scoffed as he checked the notifications on his phone.

“No, I can’t. It was cold outside. 1993. And nighttime. It was before I left school.”

He laughed. “Well, you certainly didn’t leave an impression. 1993!? Wow. You must be really pathetic to hold on to something like that.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty pathetic for sure. To think I still hold on to that memory. We’re adults now and it’s silly of me to even bring up some cliché, rehashed teenage nonsense like Truth.”

 

 

 

 

“New phone, who dis?”

Supreme Lord Commander

 

 

October 7, 2018: Day 6

I hope you understand why I can’t be there for you. I hope you understand why you can’t be there for me.

You were my everything. My best friend. My person. The thought of a future without you was never something that I thought impossible.

Until now.

She’s a better version of me. An upgrade. So young. So vibrant. So reminiscent of the youth I’ll never get back.

I hope she loves you the right way. The way that I wish I could have.

God, I miss you. So much. I wish I could take an eraser to my wrinkles. Shed the weight I’ve gained. Stop the gray from coming in so fast. I wish I still had enough hope. I wish that I didn’t know years ago that we’d turn out exactly as we have. I hate knowing things.

And so I always wanted to forget. Forget how I’d been loved. Forget how I’d been hurt. Forget how safe you made me feel. Forget how patient and kind you could be. Forget how much I wanted to be perfect around you so that I didn’t see the disappointment on your face. The contempt. Oh god, that contempt.

It broke me to feel you turn away.

Little by little. The small destructions.

The delay. The silence. The not knowing. The panic. The plans. The rehearsal of all I would say. The mirrors where I perfected my eyeliner and hair. A ritual to appease the god I had angered. A ritual to prove how I worshipped you. I wanted to atone so bad. I knew I had sinned.

Transgressions. Confessions. Atonement.

And if only begging for forgiveness. If only being a good person. If only prayers and songs could somehow win back your favor.

I loved you so much. I believed you when you said we’d be forever. I still can’t imagine myself loving anyone like you.

I miss you every minute of every day.

I want nothing more than to wake up in the morning and see your name on my phone, “Good morning, beautiful.” 

Yet, I grow old.

And I dare not disturb the universe.

 

 

Fri-yay!

Whoever coined this word is a morning person. I feel it.

They like lattes, yoga, and Publix.

And the only thing they fry is their vocals.

And, damn, I’m already started out sounding bitter.

But, less I prove a cliche, hip-hip-hooray – it’s Fri-yay!

So, what exactly does said Friday entail?

Motherlovin’ laundry! I’m washing the SHIT out of my clothes. Not literally. Like, I am potty-trained. I meant that like I’m washing them SOOOOOO good because I like it. Maybe I’ll have a beer whilst I wash. That sounds nice, right?

Hey, you guys!

Yes, you! The one I wished I talked to more. But, alas, between adult responsibilities and after work routines and duties, we don’t talk as much these days. So, here’s my blog. You can read it whenever you feel like virtually catching up. I’ll post stories, musings, pictures, and other things that I would send you personally if we all weren’t so busy. But, since I know we ARE busy…….