I think sometimes it’s safe to say I wonder. I wonder if I will ever feel whole the way I did when I loved you. I wonder if I have ruined my ability to ever love so whole again. Have I tainted the thing I want most, by turning over action and every last word to the very letter that creates them. Have I deconstructed the mystery and beauty that I find love to be? This pedestal I’ve created, well she has fallen all the way to floor. but there is the enigma just laying at the very top that I can’t seem to find, the glory of what was and what life is to me now. Why don’t I feel better? Why don’t I know how to love better? Why are women falling for me, but I am immune to the love they give. I am tired of giving. I feel as though the sand of time has beginning run out for me.
You know what I’m afraid of? Never loving. Always knowing that it was never what I had. I can’t stop comparing. I don’t want to hear it’s wrong. I know it is. I don’t need the scientific explanation of why my head fights my heart or the psychological reason for my self preservation, to just, not, be alone. But that is what I feel in all of these motions. Alone.
In swift moments of desire, of lust, of longing to be loved, I find myself forgetting this feeling. Because I am not good alone. I hate the hollow side of the bed that should be molded into the shape of a figured body.
What a love, was it love
Every night that I fell asleep next to her, is when I felt most protected, warmest…loved. She used to hate sleeping on her back, I remember that. But my favorite place to rest is directly over her heart, her arms wrapped around my back and my hand resting on her chest. I love the way she finds me in her sleep when we’ve rolled away, how she innately pulls me in and squeezes me body against hers.
You know what I think I miss the most? I miss the way she’d look at me in the morning. And all the times I woke up first to look at her. I love mornings for two reasons. Breakfast (eggs, hashbrowns, YUM) and because every morning felt like a new day that was ours to make as much or little of as we pleased.
Fogs silver lining
I went for a drive. That drive took me home. A subconscious auto pilot to the place I often seek comfort in and desperately try to escape from.
I never made it home. Driving along the freeway, I noticed the seasons changing. Ones that matched the temperature of my own mind. San Francisco. Beautiful out, but a wind that stings in the shade. Turn the key, rev the engine and now I’m in Daly City. Grey skis, and wet, humid clouds obscure my vision…mist smearing my wind shields from clarity. The clouds stay grey, that is, until I reach Half Moon Bay. Just a little further. The sun at this point is trying to burst it’s way through the weakest clouds.
Palo Alto next three exits. You have arrived. Well almost. I turn to the right, the scenery of clouds is captivating me more than the road ahead. Pull over, Alex. Pull over, and just observe. No, not yet mind, I’m almost home.
And then it hit me.
I like this fog. This fog is like watching how I’ve felt the last few weeks. The tallest and greenest forests and hillsides of Portola Valley are engulfed in a sea of grey. Slowly, yet surely, I watch the fog roll forward uncovering the tallest tops of the trees I use to drive through at 19 to clear my mind then.
I think I had been so afraid of this fog engulfing me and never subsiding; a fog that would suck my color dry, but just like these trees know, it all rolls away, and the trees look even taller than before. Maybe it will be back in the morning. Maybe it will be back next week, a month or a year. Maybe it will spare me grief for now but I know it will be back again.
But that’s the beauty of it all I hear my mind whisper out loud. Nothing beautiful has ever been appreciated without the fog. And when it subsided, we are left reminded of everything we have to be grateful for.
I am taller. This is a beautiful change.
WHEN IM DRUNK AND FORGET ABOUT PERSONAL SPACE
Heartbreaker you’ve got the best of me, but I just keep on comin’ back incessantly. Why’d you have have to run your game on me? I should have known right from the start, you were going to break my heart.
Mariah Carey - Heart Breaker
My Second, My Best, My Love.
I could probably spend hours writing about all of the walls and hoops I broke and jumped through to get to where I am today with her. But now that I am here, I’m stuck. Drowning; slowly but surely like a pit of quicksand swallowing me whole. The more I try to save us, the faster my body disappears.
She’s leaving, it’s inevitable - we’re ending, despite already being “over.”
My heart is torn between relief and aching.
Her love is so much different than the love I felt first. It’s healthy, it’s stable (when her confusion doesn’t cloud her own judgement), it’s supportive, It never stays angry, it’s silly, it embraces adventure…adventures that I wish I had more time to explore and experience with you. It’s a love that wants all the same things that I do in the future. It’s stubborn, it’s sexy, sometimes it seems never-ending, even when we say it has, I hope it never does.
And with the rain there’s nowhere else to go
We’ll watch it fall
Don’t try and tell me you don’t want to see
What it would be like to grow old with me
You’re in love every other day
Cause you smile at me like you’re dying to say
That your heart beat stops when I’m walking away
So don’t walk away
You’re in love
Betty Who - “You’re in Love”