prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08

2001-12-11 - 7:29 p.m.

I am afraid of endings, of not being endless, of ceasing to be, of moments and people and friendships and memories disappearing, but incapable of understanding, where they go. Where do *we* go? How do we hold onto things that are intangible? Where does *love* go? Where does heartache go, when a new love takes over? Where do the babies we once were, go when we become the grown ups that we are? - do we consume our inner child? Where do the colours of a rainbow hide, when it is night? Where are you? Where were you, when I was not spending every waking moment thinking about you ? Where were you, *before* you were you? Where will you be long after you are no longer you? Where do memories disappear, when we forget to remember the things we once could never forget?

I could disappear inside my head so easily and live in the memory of you. I linger like I belong there, in your arms. I curl up in front of the fireplace, and stretch out, luxuriating like an overindulged lap cat. I am comfortable, in my tapestry of time gone by. I have etched the walls and stained the glass with my salt water tears, and every twilights eve, I dance with your shadow, trying to catch the glimmer of firelight in your iced eyes.

I bow in front of you, and spread a silk blanket at your feet. Strawberries permeate the air, and I can dip them smoothly into frothy pools of whip cream, s o f t l y licking the corner of your mouth, with mine. I can live more readily in that moment, than I can recognize this harsh reality of one.

I am love's imposter.

I hold onto you , because I am afraid of things ending. I cling to each moment , each memory, like the last rosary bead clutched in a pious nun's prayerfull hands. I am always praying for the return to your lavish world of colours.

Just because I live in memories, does not mean I have forgotten the ways of the real world. I just have no home, to go to for comfort. No shores to wash upon, noone to notice if I fade away. It is a vulnerable place to be.You were my shelter, do you remember, do you remember how it used to be?

And because I do not like endings, I consume everything voraciously. I am greedy, and obsessive. If you were my love, I would study the contours of your face, and run my hands over the precipices, smoothing the lines,tracing every nuance, memorizing you, so that someday I can recall the exact curve of your mouth and eyes and nose... you say I am a pessimist. but I say Au Contraire. I just need to be prepared. My heart knows the heavy burden of it's truth.

Alas, you can never be prepared.

I built us a faery tale world of castles, spun from the cyrus clouds of my childhood. I gave us play children , with my green eyes, and your endearing grin. And, in the end, I found a way, to still hold onto ~us~. I run there and hide, when the greyness threatens to cloak me in despair. It is pathetic and sad, but it is the only way to be with you, and still let you , be - you. Let you be, with her.

HER! SHE, who is not ~*me*~

but, maybe just to confuse me, sometimes you still appear in my dreams and whisper to me, in the middle of the night. I listen, with a breaking heart and aching an aching start. The tormenting thoughts of you and I are never far apart. She is a ghost that slips(sleeps) between us, fits between the hollow of our bodies pressed together in a delicious secret of what once was and what is again( if but only for a forbidden stolen moment). Sigh~ I smell her in your voice, I taste her in your words. I do not know if she is still *there* with you, but somehow,to me, she is a l w a y s there. And I am always AWARE. She is not me. You loved her more than me. I was always just an illusion. ( leaving me with only the comfort of my delusions)

I hate endings. maybe that is why I could never really let you go, but why is it, that you sometimes sneak back to play in the clouds? Is it because you hate endings too?

I think it is just that you were right, you never *could* say goodbye to me.

but someday, I am gonna find the words, gonna find the way, to lease the castle in the clouds, and send the play children away.

I hate endings, but endings, are just new beginnings, right?

right ?

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