Sometimes I have dreams, and in them I wake up and you are here. Some days I come home and I imagine that you arrive and park right where you are. Those days I think that you are coming home, back home. I think that you are back home, but then I realize you are every day. Thus it’s time to move. There’s nothing about this that is home for you, it is for me, but no longer us. There’s time for everything and home will find itself.
Category: Uncategorized
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Signs of improvement
I realized, while in the shower this morning, that the anniversary of the breakup finally came and went this year without my notice. Looking at my calendar I was returning from Cooperstown on that day, having gone to a Belgian brewery tour and eating at the snack bar at what amounts to a petting zoo. It has to be a sign of improvement that I no longer need to lick wounds on that day, right?
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Tangled legs
Too much night. Want to find a way to reconcile these feelings, some admitted, some not. Coming home tonight I wanted to feel your tangled legs waiting for me so much that I almost made a wrong turn into your strange little driveway. I still remember perfect, unemotional fits, and I would like to find you again. Write the great love story. Be something that people talk about. But mostly, be with you.
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Laaaast Niight
I don’t want you to stop saying such things and I don’t thing you want to stop saying them, but the “you’re the perfect size” or some such thing last night made me want to lay you down. I just wish I had, or was, the right size in all the other ways. I have pictures in my mind that cannot and willnot leave. The best ever. You were the best ever.
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New roommate
Looking at photos tonight with my new roommate. There’s discussion of the things we have in common. I am just looking at all of this history, mostly blurry just like my experience of it is now, lots of you. You don’t look like his soon-to-be ex-wife, but it rings a bell. He says you look happy. Like you and me and we were happy once. It reminds him of what he fell in love with with his wife; something now that has become just a dream; she’s changed so much.
I try to tell him that I think it is different with me and you, that you really haven’t changed that much from what I fell for, and that what I fell for was really you. I feel foolish. As if I know?
He says you’re beautiful in those old photographs.
I say that I know. -
Terror in the workplace
The screaming you hear is coming from me, down here, on the first floor of the news room. The terrorist stands on the mezzanine level and she, yes SHE, begins to speak. The voice bounces off of the ceiling and even a whisper can be heard as in the Capitol Rotunda. The threat comes and sounds like this:
I went to a baseball game yesterday, and I did not watch one play of the game, I cannot tell you who won, or who was really playing, but it was really fun. It was just like a big party.
Please! Let the terror stop! Workplace waterboarding, 8-hour-a-day Mexican pop music, or every-minute spoonfuls of wasabi would be more welcome.
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Cryptoquote
“I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.”
Cryptic post made after sandwich from CPM. -
Oh why?
Why? Why…? Not sure… I do think there’s wisdom in the last post though.
Last night was the first time that I really missed you being around for dinner. I ended up with Tom and, well, he’s just not the same as you, for many reasons. -
To go home
Don’t settle for the one that you run to when you are sad; find the one you run to when you are happy. Hopefully they are the same.
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Mi barrio
Not much of a neighborhood without you.