Category Archives: prose

If I hadn’t left that night

Sometimes (read: often) I think about that last fateful night when…

And I wonder… what would have happened had I not left that night.

But I needed to leave.

You needed to feel my absence a bit.

I needed to feel yours.

When I left that night, I was just as upset about it as you are now.

I didn’t want to leave.

I didn’t want to fight.

I just wanted things to stop.

I’m not sure you would have done anything to change those things

If I hadn’t left that night.

I wanted you to be better.

I thought that by me leaving, you might appreciate me more.

That I might appreciate me more.

In several ways I have found one of those things to be true.

As breakable as I feel like I can be

I’m not.

There are amazing souls that appreciate me.

I used to be one of them.

I should have been more of them than I had been.

I don’t know if I could have remembered that as strongly

If I hadn’t left that night.

In the midnight hour I still dream of you

Of the person I believed in you

Of the love that I hoped would return to me

Of the happiness that I thought might appear again

But likely couldn’t…

if I hadn’t left that night.

And the texts keep coming

The answers are painful

So very very painful

And knowing might be half the battle but it still hurts wondering

Would it have been different?

Would we have been different?

Would I have been different?

If I hadn’t left that night.

Silent reverb

I wish I was me when you met me.
I was almost there but not quite.

And when the storms hit, and the ship rocked and rocked…
I felt like I was going to tip over.
I thought I was going to pour out.

I wanted for you to be there- by my side as I was at the helm.
I didn’t need you to help guide me.
I didn’t need for you to take the wheel.

But you insisted.

I didn’t want to fight you.
I wanted you to be there and watch me do it myself.
But you insisted.
And I didn’t know how to take it.

Parts of me stripped away
As the storms raged on and on
I was afraid that I was going to lose you
I wanted you to be steadfast and hold on.
But it was too late.

I cried out in anguish as the seas claimed hold of you
I wanted it to be me
I wanted to jump in and bring you back

And the storms raged on and on
The wheel spun and spun and spun.
It heeded me return to it

The fog rolled in
I watched you as you disappeared

I cried out in anguish as the seas claimed hold of you
Oh how I wanted to jump in and bring you back
I wanted it to be me

The grey clouds thickened and enveloped the ship
You weren’t there to help save me
For the first time I felt scared
Was I really going to be able to do this alone?

And the storms raged on and on
The wheel spun and spun and spun
It heeded me return to it

The fog rolled in
I watched you as you disappeared

I cried out in anguish as the seas claimed hold of you
Oh how I wanted to jump in and bring you back
I wanted it to be me

Parts of me stripped away
As the storms raged on and on
And when those storms hit,
and the ship rocked and rocked…
I felt like I was going to tip over.
I thought I was going to pour out.

I wanted for you to be there- by my side as I was at the helm.
But what I found in your absence was more strength than I had ever fathomed even before your entrance.

I didn’t need you to help guide me.
I didn’t need for you to take the wheel.

The skies opened up and the night was filled with stillness
Stars scattered across the now black canvas once again
It can’t rain all the time.

I wish I was me when you met me.
I was almost there but not quite.

At the Twelfth toll: A previous letter to Mr. H

It’s midnight and Cinderella is still dancing. She cares naught anymore that her dress has turned to rags. Her true Prince wouldn’t either.

Why as a society do we put on a facade to gain a fleeting false sense of happiness? What is the point of faking what we are? Would Cinderella truly have lived happily ever after if she hadn’t rushed home from that party?

The heroes of our story are those true to the grit and grime… as well as glitz. Of the ones who are not afraid to step into the shadow from time to time.

You see, what they won’t tell you (lest you know their secret) is that Cinderella glitters more in her tattered rags. But it’s a sparkle that only a true Prince can appreciate.

Dear suitors of Christmas Past & Present… when you encounter your own version of this modern day fantasy girl, I implore you to continue dancing after midnight. Fore without this, the fantasy may not be able to coexist.

Regale in the true beauty of a world ridden in color and of grey.

 

Worthwhile version 2.0

Once a decade it seems that I meet someone who is sublimely worthwhile.  Once a decade I have a brief moment of levity with this amazing connection of friendship, heart, and passion that, years later I still look back and dream about.

There is something to be said about an unforced, unguided, natural affair.  So rarely we find those that connect with us on such a level.  It is as disheartening as it is uplifting when it happens.

We saw “Beginning of the End” together.  How ironic that it seems that may have just been what it was.

How I wish it wasn’t.

But who knows?

Who am I kidding?

I have come to realize that as I grow older, my expectations disicipate and at the same time, rise only to become more and more untouchable.  I wonder if the next version will be the right one.  If it will be the right time.  If only…

I am seeking answers.  Answers that can only be found in the resounding silence that is upon us.  It’s the roar of the streets.  It’s the sound of the ocean.  It is the crickets chirping away at night.  It is…

Blurs of color on the canvas of our lives.  Of that hundred year old ferris wheel.  Of fireworks painting flowers on a night sky over a graveyard.  Of kisses not yet had in front of a photobooth when time seemed to stop and the camera panned away.

Once a decade I experience moments like these.  Of what they are beyond just that-moments- I… honestly do not know anymore.

I know that deep down the worthwhile people are out there.  That I’m one of them.  That the years will fall like petals.  That it is the season to shed your leaves.  That…

I have come to realize that as I grow older, my expectations disicipate and at the same time, rise only to become more and more untouchable.  I wonder if the next version will be the right one.  If it will be the right time.

I am seeking answers.  Answers that can only be found in the resounding silence that is upon us.  It’s the roar of the streets.  It’s the sound of the ocean.  It is the crickets chirping away at night.

Once a decade I experience moments like these.  Of what they are beyond just that-moments- I… honestly do not know anymore.

4.

I oftentimes find myself having both the best and worst timing imaginable.  Why it seems to happen, I’m unsure.  But I wouldn’t give it up any of it.

All those moments…

the rise and fall of passion and levity to see-you-laters and goodbyes…

Life is about the experiences.

They’re about discovery.

What’s real.

And what’s going to make you more real…

however surreal and dreamlike they may be.

I’m so grateful I found you.

You.

You.

Me.

You

(and?)

Me.

If only for a moment.

If only for this moment.

however surreal and dreamlike it may be.

Trains

He: what is that? (motioning to the star drawn on the palm of my hand)

Me: It’s a star I caught one night.

He: When was that?

Me: Oh, awhile ago.

The sun’s come up and I have to go.  But I wish you didn’t have to.  I wish I didn’t have to.

You asked me to promise not to ____.

But… I… But you…

Me: I’m beginning to think you can never really catch a star.

Him: No, You really can’t.

And now I just want to join you and wish this dream… this train doesn’t stop.

I really hope this isn’t the end of the line.

Relevance? Unknown

I had.. the most bizarre dream last night.

And you were there.

And so were you.

I don’t remember all of it.

Hell, I don’t remember much of it.

Is it odd for an atheist to pray?

Isn’t a thought released to the air really just the same thing?

What is a prayer exactly?

Another time.

Another story?

This one is just about a wish.

Yes, yet another wish.

Because if you can’t dream it, you can’t realize it.

If you can’t realize it, you can’t actualize it.

If you don’t know what you want, your odds of getting it.. well, they just aren’t as likely.

A discussion with my roommate last night bid some inner reflection.

I was exhausted.  Yesterday was a long one.  But even when my body begged me to stop, I just kept going.

I had to ride out the storm.

I had to punish myself so I knew when I was finally there that I’d deserved it.

But I deserve everything along the way too.

The heartache.

The pain.

The levity.

The letdown.

Talking.  More and more talking.

I’m fortunate enough to be surrounded by such a wonderful support group.

“The thing was.. over the past months you were with him, you grew up immensely.  He, on the other hand, just remained the same.  If anything, he regressed.”

My head is…

I’m so…

~L.

the grip

Mr Parker

the panther

etcetera. etcetera.

There’s alot you don’t know… that you’ll never know.

“I think you’re reaching far too low than you should be.  You are worth so much more than you have been giving yourself credit for.” said another good friend, regarding business affairs.

But the statements…

“Women seem to have it either one extreme or the other.  It’s either full fledged all out full of themselves intensity or no self esteem at all.”

Potential.

Love.

Success.

Dreams.

I was about to go to sleep when he messaged me.  He just won’t let me let him go.

“Is there ever a time when you’re not amazing?”  I asked him.

But that’s yet another story.

I “prayed.”

I wished.

I dreamed.

And you were there.

And so were you.

I don’t remember all of it.

Hell I don’t remember much of it.

I couldn’t see faces.  I can only remember one name.  I’m not even sure if it was the person in the dream.

I remember very little.  But what pieces I do, I remember vividly.

I was sitting across the table from a gentleman.

He asked me:

“Why couldn’t I be your first choice? Why am I not your first choice?”

And I said:

“You already are. You always were.”

And then I woke up.  I tried to remember more of the dream.  I couldn’t.  It was driving me batty.

I forced myself to get back to sleep, determined and vigilant to uncover the subliminal messages underlying within.

I remember one name:

yours, Mr Parker.

Even still, I’m not sure.  I woke up again.

No answers.

Just stillness.

Is it odd for an atheist to pray?

Isn’t a thought released to the air really just the same thing?

I just kept going.

I had to ride out the storm.

I dragged myself out of bed.  I saw Mr Parker online.

“You should call me.  I miss your voice or something.”

“Or something… ” he said, as if he already knew.

…Or something…

I drove to work.  The words stirred in my head.  Everything about last night.  Everything about this morning.

I pulled into my spot and went to walk upstairs.  I lifted my eyes up and there you were.

What’s the meaning of all of this?  I’m unsure.

No answers.

Just stillness.

I have to keep going.

I have to ride out the storm.

The War

Something happened yesterday that I won’t be getting into this posting. Something happened that I will however.

The ball dropped. Was it the other shoe?

For reasons unknown

For reasons I’d like to believe in

I know that I’m going to be alright.

The number 4 is now a prominent figure.. fading in and out like a neon sign on a dive bar.

But trinity would be close behind. As the rise and fall of one gasp of the fourth seems to not know for sure if they indeed want to be a contender.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…

to you?

to you?

to you?

to you?

to me?

I’m being haunted even in my daydreams. Driving around. I see reoccurances of the same car. Your car. Perhaps it’s coincidence.

But then it’s followed by yet another sign.

Of 444’s and hope…

Destiny. Fate. Someone is watching over me. I’m in the right place. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…