…bits and pieces…

Days pass, one after the other, without bookmarks.
Catching up, tuning in, taking care, adjusting and putting
stuff in place…
It’s been Three Days Home, after the two day journey, and
aside from her message to him that she’d arrived, there was
nothing back from him.

The lack of contact, withdrawal from connection, was overtaking
sanity, and she needed the emotional equivalent of methadone…

Knowing him, she thought, he’s likely getting wasted and numbing
out, while she was busy feeling all of it.
In that way they were very different.
But she could Feel his wobblings… his core off center…

She was coming down a rough slope, landing on excruciatingly hard
and itchy terra… and it felt like nothing could fill the void.

She reached into the abyss of time warps, and opposite sign waves,
and found little but empty hands and aching, longing questions.

If he was on the same E Ticket ride, they were both going down,
and no matter what she stuffed into the vacuumous black,
nothing satisfied.
Her way was to reach out, his to pull away.

There wasn’t enough beer or chocolate or cigarettes or mind
bending thoughts to fill it up, this she knew.
There was nothing she could do about his wastoid habits either…
… but keep busy, and keep on dialing.  He never answered…

It was a cruel time, a time that only would pass with time,
until another time took its place.
There were no answers to her questions now.
Her molecules were still collecting, still scattered across
half the planet, still sitting in that room, still lying
next to him, hearing his voice saying her name.

Just now, it felt like all was unknown.
Like Anything could happen …
Was Anything Real???

 

 

…internal journal continues…

January 10 2005

She was lovesick.  Full of love and longing
and aching burning want.

The hollow pit that was her stomach hungered for him, prowled
the jungle for him, plodded swamps in the rainforest for him.
There was no face to bring into focus.  Eighteen years had left
a blur of pixel mixed elements that really made no sense.

The eyes.  The eyes couldn’t have changed much.  She held to
those eyes, large and dark, slanted with heavy lids.

The moment she beheld the eyes, she would know, she
would be home again.

But what if…. what if they couldn’t live up to their own memory?
He had begun mentioning faults… the bad knee, the bad ankle…
something about his face.
She’d know it…that perfect face.
“What happened?”, she queried.
“Did you see Scarface?”
“Ya..” she lied.  but she let the title take to her mind……
And then he snickered… something about operations and
moving something from here to there…his Cheek?
“You’ll see”, he finalized.

But to her, his scars were nothing.  Before, he was almost too perfect.
So gracefully handsome, so smooth skinned, the lines of the
swimmer’s body adding to his aristocratic elegance.
He would still be him.
She knew this, she held this to her breast like a child hungry
for comfort and sustenance.

But what about her?  Would she be enough like the girl he had
remembered, the girl he had been mesmerized by, as he had just
admitted to, but a week ago..?

She had been wounded too…by life, by love, by time and
other thieves.
Surely a sadder but wiser girl would stand before him.

Still she wondered about the directions they would take…

What will we Do with the new being that he and I will create?
What will be our goals, our directions, with all this Stuff that
we bring to the table between us….

I hope I can keep a perspective, and view myself clearly…
I want to stay in the present, fresh and awake, not reactive
from the past…
Can we both be in the same Place?

…a name by anyother…

By now, perhaps you’re getting a sense of that which had accosted me.
I believe most adjectives would fall short, and my heart was set adrift
with both nostalgic yearnings and terrified anticipation.

I fondled the photo he’d sent me. I found scraps of memories in my
journals…
This one still is particularly poignant, from when he wrote out his
full name in his bewitching script… he did it for Piney, but I took
ownership immediately.

I stared at his picture now.  I saw the same man, a different man,
a different world, with twenty years and 14,000 miles between us.
Was this even possible… was I crazy…?