Real

Background: I wrote this to her in this scraggly journal/planner that I carried everywhere with me to keep my life organized. I kept it to myself because I was fighting it. I gave it to her sometime later, on some inconsequential day, after I wasn’t so afraid of myself.

I was drunk when I did it, because I’m mostly still afraid of myself. But, she kept it.

"You're it, the silver on a little cloud..."

I guess at some point I figured you would just know. I thought that at some point you would realize that I think about you all the time, and that I’m not okay with her having you. You would somehow know that the few moments we spent alone that first day felt like perfection. “The air must be colder than it should be,” I thought. What else would explain my physiological reaction? The feeling of wild comfort: the sensation that ran the length of my spine and raised the little hairs on my arm. It was you.

You were just doing me a favor. A simple, kind, meaningless favor, and I was reading into it. Maybe you were reading into it too?

You were the last person I expected. Still, all I want to do is spend time with you: to talk to you for hours, to just sit and stare at you. I swear I’ve tried to fight this, but it’s the kind of thing that overwhelms me. My friend says she doesn’t believe in affection unless it is something people have to fight against. She says if it’s easy, it’s compatibility, but the shit you fight against is real. I think you might be real to me, because I want so badly for you not to be.

Maybe that came out wrong. I only worry because I want so badly for you to be real, too.

faikus

it would help if you

needed me on the nights i

could bring you ice cream

and on the nights i

was not ready to speed off

singing burningly

remnants

broken glass, a chipped mug. I told you the truth, but it was far too late. I missed that opportunity.

late nights, soft hands. I never felt that way before and told no one. I let you go.

you lied to me. I told you I forgave you. I lied….and I left.

you asked if I was dating anyone. I told you I wasn’t. you paused. you knew. I changed the subject. You told me you loved me anyway.

you kissed my cheek and asked if I was ok. I faked a smile. I still don’t know if you believed me.

i told you it was over. you took me at my word. you asked if we could make things work. I cried the hardest I’d ever cried with anyone. We haven’t really talked since.

you wrote, “am I really that frightening?” I never wrote back.

we were too much alike.

sometimes the silence was too loud.

these are the remnants of the ones I loved; the ones I still do; the ones I always will; the ones I never will again. I think about them sometimes, but today, I think mostly of you.

traces of juice in your glass; leftover crumbs on a plate. so much to say, but my words held no meaning. I missed that opportunity.

gone

When I open my eyes, I can still see you—the crease of your smile, the shape of your hips, a forgotten hand collapsed atop your head. Being with you is like staring into the sun. Your silhouette dances on my eyelids for hours after you’ve gone. I have captured you like a candid shot and throughout the night you’re closer than my dreams.

When I open my eyes, I collect each image and paste it to paper to create my own Picasso—I press you to glass and hang you on the far wall in my room so that I can explore each bend and fold—searching for meaning in the assorted leftovers of a quickly fading memory.

You stare at me blankly from your cage and I know that you can’t stay. I hear the cracking of broken glass—like ice cubes in lukewarm water. You tear yourself from the frame and vanish. You’re an exhale on a cold day, fading to quickly, and I can’t remember if I’m still breathing.

I want to see you again.

because of love

my jewelry box sits next to my bed. I rummaged through it this morning and found a ring that reads "John 3:16" in Greek. I bought that ring years ago, before I knew Greek. The title of the ring was "because of love." I knew that i wanted to wear that phrase on my finger every day. It was the simplest put summary of all that drives me. Later, i found out that the ring actually just has the address of that famous verse that begins: "for God so loved the world..." When i realized that it didn't actually have the word "love" in it, i relegated it to the jewelry box for good.

i didn't want the address - i wanted the place. I wanted the real words. i wanted the real thing. i wanted to wear love on my hand.

this morning when i looked for the ring i found it without any trouble. it's difficult to miss because another ring that i tossed into the jewelry box got stuck inside of it. i bought two rings once: one for me, and one for someone else. it was an innocent gift. i wanted it to be special, but i didn't want it to mean too much. the sales clerk told me they read "soul-mate" or "destiny" (It had been years since i refreshed my Hebrew).

I gave her the ring, and began wearing mine. She was my first out-of-the-closet girlfriend. the phrase suited the way that i felt: "this is my destiny," i thought. Later, we were talking about the rings with a friend. I told our friend that the rings said "destiny." She told the friend that they read, "soul-mate." after that day, i stopped wearing mine - the phrase was too much... so i relegated it to the same jewelry box.

one day i went looking for it but couldn't find it anywhere. and then i noticed it inside the other ring. I couldn't get the two to separate. i tried for days: soap, oil, pliers... neither would budge. it felt symbolic to me: my soul-mate was stuck inside John 3:16. i thought for sure i was meant to be a monk. It was that day that I knew that something was wrong.

i've been staring at the merged rings all morning because of a dream i had last night...

last night i dreamed i was on a quest


i entered a garden with countless pools of water and began diving in


each time i would surface empty-handed

in an attempt to see things more clearly, i climbed a tree. It was giant and ancient and alive. i needed a better vantage point from which to survey all of the unexplored areas of the garden

As i was climbing, i saw something shimmer underneath the brush of the tree. there was something stuck inside a hidden crack. i reached in and pulled out two rings. one was made of a shiny wood that looked almost like gold, and the other was silver with the words "soul mate" carved into it in Hebrew characters. i couldn't believe that i had found something valuable when i wasn't looking. I took them both and put them in my pocket... and then i woke up.

instinct

Instinct…. I saw this word when I was shopping with L at the little trinket shop on 9^th Street today, and it made me think of you, so thought I would send you a little email. I know it’s only a weekend that you’re gone, but I can’t help but miss you. :)

When I saw the word, I realized that it encapsulated what brought us together. Were we two desperate women looking for love? No. We met unassumingly, and yet somehow, something inside of each us claimed the other as their own… instinct…. It proved us right thus far… and here were over, over the one year hump, still in each other’s arms, waking each morning with a smile and a kiss…

Thinking of you love. You bring me so much joy… and you remind me everyday what is truly beautiful in this life. I’m so blessed to be sharing this life with you. So hurry your ass up and get back to Durham.

I love you.

- A.

waking up

B,

…talked with E about sleeping habits a bit after you left - i was telling her how i used to need all this sleep - like when i lived at the wadenpfuhls i used to sleep for 10 hours and i'd wake up and not want to leave my bed... and how that's changed since we've been together. how i hate sleeping because it means that i'm not experiencing you or thinking about you... and how i love waking up because its to you or thoughts of you or hopes of seeing you and being with you that day and the day after and the day after and the day after and ... :) so i guess i just want you to know that... i love you still...

me