Thursday, January 27, 2011

forty-one

Every single time I taste that taste or smell that smell - I am transported to a time when we were all one team. Eight months of my life shared in a way that can never, ever be achieved in the exact same way again. We were many, but for the same purpose became one; and in that act, we achieved absolute equal opportunity regardless of all the details that made us different.

And man, were we ever different! Gay, straight, blond, brunette, skinny, fat, short, long, tall, curly, black, white, yellow, quiet, loud, angry, sweet, academic, artistic, etc...

And we gained some, and we lost some - but we were always one.
And I loved being apart of the team; and I miss my space within the circle. But I also know that circle, like a bubble, popped long ago when Time played its typical trick on the romantic within me who believes that a moment can last forever. Lives change, we changed - I changed; and the team became new, and different one.

Our story is only remembered by us - if we remember it; and tonight, I choose to remember it and tell you that I love you.

forty

Thank you for being my secret, not-so-secret now crush. You've been the reason that a sweet smile will creep up the sides of my mouth and make my knees turn weak -- ironic too, because you are stoic and sardonic and tough. Hmmm, an interesting juxtaposition, I would say. And though I clearly want you, you have absolutely no interest - and I love you for snubbing me. It is crazy. But if you felt the same way, then I would tumble right back into the same old pattern and that wouldn't really be a wise decision at the moment. So, your rejection is in a dark and twisted way a means of protection - and I appreciate that; even though you don't know that you're doing it.

Your ignorance (or denial) is my gain. I get to daydream; and those always work out so deliciously, don't you think? (LOL - no, I guess you don't.) Feel free to continue to ignore my existence - I will enjoy the imaginary anticipation and feel secure in its lack of actual connection.

I love you for not loving me - keep at it. You're doing great!