Hiroshima was upon us already, we just didn’t want to admit it.  Once upon a time. Once upon.. many times.

I wasn’t perfect.

He wasn’t either.

But we had a good time back then… and it started to rapidly fade to a distant memory.  What once were treasured gems of…

It brings me back to that scene in Big Fish.  Time.. just..

I don’t know if he will ever get over the taste in his mouth leftover from a love now lost by the wayside.  Of one light that shined so brightly.. if only for a short while.

Tonight is the vigil.

Of that one last breath before we go into the water.  Sinking deep under the surface and looking up at the light from below.

Deeper deeper.  Until we’re as light as air ready to surface with an even bigger zest than once before.

I close my eyes and click my heels.  But it will never be the same.  It never was the same after…

There was something drawing about him.  His words graced through whom he spoke to so effortlessly.  He held his head high but remained true to himself.  He was not apologetic.  He was not always kind.  But he was wise and driven.  And he took notice of her.

In the end, no one was innocent.  No one ever is.

That was the night the domino fell.

And it was all her doing.  It was all my doing.

Honesty does not give you a by to do whatever you please.  If anything I’ve learned to some degree, there are things better left unsaid.  Things better left undone.  Things left to the imagination.  Etcetera Etcetera.

I’m a hypocite.  When I set my sights on something, the worst words in the world are “no” and “wait.”  I’ve grown patient at the same time I learned when to be immpatient.

There were two nametags from an event shared together on my wall.  One day, they fell.  Just like the tack.. I wondered if something was about to happen.  My gut told me it was.  I think we both knew but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Tonight will be your vigil.

Tonight, tonight….

To be Continued

One thought on “one…

  1. The cult of honesty–that’s what I call it. Truth is the highest good, yes. But not everything must be told. Matters of the heart require gentleness and they don’t call honesty brutal for no reason.

    My husband and I talk about this all the time. I tell him there are things I would rather not know. “I’m not your best friend,” I say. “I’m your wife.”

    “But a wife should be a best friend,” he responds. I roll my eyes. Oh, Americans. That’s what a mistress is for. Did you learn nothing in European history?

    He doesn’t like my answer. Perhaps even that should have been left unsaid. It’s my truth, but is it necessary? Materiality applies to relationships as it does to anything else.

    If there’s a lesson to take away from this, it’s that. We are on a journey. We don’t always know where we’re going. But the wandering, the dead ends, the obstacles, the people we encounter along the way and the adventures that result do not always require immediate disclosure.

    It’s not that we’re hiding. It’s that everything has a time and a place. And in love, gentleness is best.

    But then, I’m a Scorpio. I lock empty boxes.

    If this was your Hiroshima, where was your Nagasaki? And did your Pearl Harbor involve a mad drive across the desert landscape?

    Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

    I’ll blame it on San Francisco.

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