At the L after not having talked to C
Monday, June 20th, 2005It feels like i’ve been spun in a centrifuge. You know it’s coming. You feel it coming. And when it hits you, you know you’re alive only because bliss overwhelms you like a fit of madness.
Sometimes, the heart lights up like street lights. You pass them by and watch them bleed into the night sky thinking- i want to stand under them. One streetlight after another, basking in the brightness that robs the darkness of its reason to exist. I wanted to lose myself there, even for just a moment.
I wanted to know what it’s like. Even after a 3 second narcoleptic episode of forgetfulness, i wanted to know what it’s like for you to be there with me.
I wanted to see you. Who you are. What’s inside you that yearns for something bigger than the moment. I wanted to know why you breathe the way you do. Why the wanderlust in your eyes never seemed to get doused by the same apprehension i felt around everyone, there in the dark.
We all got lost in the beat, lying on the floor breathless after the weight of our bodies push spots on our backs and we yield by groaning in sweet relief.
I thought about you. How bright your eyes still were after hours of welcome comfort– and minutes of abrasive desire that felt like drops of candle wax on your skin.
You say that it’s ok. But what you really mean is that you want life lived on your own terms and nobody else’s.
I wish i was there, slowly sinking out of the shadows and into that room– just to be there. Just to stay. To ask questions that might never have been answered. And answer questions back in words neither of us would’ve probably understood. Or maybe, nothing needed to be said at all.
That’s wishful thinking that washes out after breathing restfully on the living room couch– sleep– covering my body like a cold, crisp blanket.
Wishful thinking that’s remembered days later, knowing that it’s over– and the world spins forward like it always does and never in reverse like it did in a waking dream i had on monday morning.
