They are talking quietly downstairs, the words I cannot hear.
The wind moves in winding fashion through the naked boughs of my myrtle trees.
Geese moving across the sky in this darkness make an odd and muted cry.
The waitress next door sits in her car, the engine idling in laborious fashion, she will go in after awhile.
My mind is busy thinking of things that will never happen while I wait for sleep’s arrival.
So frozen is this northern Clime
Night’s ceiling dark and endlessly high
Stars with their pale pale light
Shine infinitely while we’re spinning
The warmth of my breath as it whispers
A prayer hangs brittle in the frost
The crystals form beautiful, serene
Whisked away by a Mistral to Persephone
By chance or design she takes pity on my plea
And I know my heart is not lost.
Oh this dark, sunless hour of inconvenient activity.
There is a certain bliss in falling. The weightlessness and the rush and if you’re lucky someone has taught you how to tuck and roll to avoid much of the pain of impact. I dare say that is why we call it falling in love.
Subtraction makes everything smaller. The less you have the less you are and so I wonder if that is why people wither and die?
There is no better time than now to fix a dragon and cast a spell.
No one knows what is in anothers mind. We can guess, ruminate and ponder if we are brave we ask for elucidation. For many people the quest to find love, a true love, is an essential and driving force. So many schools of thought abound. You only have one soul mate, you need to find your other half, there’s plenty of fish in the sea, why settle for one, and you add these ideas to your formative years experience and you try. You try on the off chance that you will win. Some do; many don’t. For the don’t who try again and again you have my respect. Opening one’s self to love after pain is a a gift not many will receive.
I married. I divorced. I found myself spending bits of time on-line talking to people. The serendipity of random friend requests made some meetings feel a lot less like chance and more like destiny. One pattern I noticed were the one’s who made life sizzle always ended in a fizzle. There was one who did not sizzle nor did he burn, he was there being funny, poking fun and making me feel at ease. He was smart, articulate, witty, and handsome. He never professed interest in me to warrant the type of affection I found growing in myself for him. It was painful to watch him flirt with others who fit the description of women he favored. I did my best to stuff those feelings into the far corners of my mind and simply enjoy the friendship we shared.
Quite some time passed and another began actively pursuing me. It was a strange and wonderful feeling. I’d never truly been one to have men pay attention to me. Not only did he notice me but he noticed my friend. He was jealous and angry about him. He pointed out how my friend was disrespectful of me and in deliberate insidious fashion he began planting destructive seeds. They started to root and every time my friend chose to interact with me I saw it as an attack. I had allowed a new and untried and tested person to build a fire of resentment in me. He used the thoughts of my own inadequacies and unrequited desires as kindling and continued with suggestions that I should break free of him. He painted my friend in a way that reminded me of my abusive ex and persisted until I had to do something. And in a rash moment I severed all ties with someone who never deliberately hurt me and who had only ever been hisself. I sent him a message that spoke most of the truth. I loved him, still do, but it was difficult to maintain my sanity when I knew he did not feel the same about me. He said he did not believe me. He said it was politics and that crushed every minscule thought I had that he might have liked me despite my not being his ideal.
It was not a relief. It was a quiet emptiness. It was after this point that the man I had chosen began to behave differently. He started doing insane things and slowly spent less and less time with me ~ ghosting is what the kids call it.
My foolish desire to be with someone who loved me was crushed. Crushed under the weight of his lies, my self deception and my betrayal of a friend. That was the moment that terrible cliché became a reality. I knew what I lost.
It’s a bittersweet continuance. My friend, he, opened himself to the pain of being my friend again and I appreciate that more than he knows. He’s forbidden me to speak of it to him. And I abide by his wish. I want nothing more than his happiness even if it is something that does not include me. I still get jealous but I’ve learned that’s something I need to sort through not him. After all what business is it of his if I love him.