Who do you blame when you’ve broken your own heart?
~unknown
I am led by my heart, by something beautiful, yet it’s been known to throw all of my rationale out the window.
I want to see you, to talk to you, to look you in your eyes. I long for the safety and comfort of you. I long to love you in return, to shower you with my heart and all that is the best of me. Because of that love, I’ll heed your desire and rein in mine.
Your nonexpectational way. The strength of your arms, the freckles on your skin, the weight of your body, Your playfulness and laughter. Your innocent, yet commanding presence. Your stories and your music, the creativity, and intelligence of your eyes. Your rocks and your muddy golf shoes, untied sneakers, and a heart of flowers are forever etched in my mind’s eye.
How will I ever forget your collection of “flower porn” and your silver smile?
I’m in love with you.
The unexpected kiss at the nape of my neck, just behind my right ear while browsing through a market, your arms wrapped around me, holding me so close that it was hard for me to tell where I ended and you began. Your lips resting on my forehead through the night, the first night we slept together…the first night, we slept together, nothing more. Me out of my element with a man that just wanted to hold a woman. You inhaled me, your smile and nose gently resting along my neck, enjoying the scent of me.
I’m starting to lose the important things that I didn’t file deeply into my memory while with you, things of importance that you shared, names of friends, family, and places you’ve been. Please forgive me as it was the presence of your touch in the moment that had me captivated. Tho’ today, each time I sip Scotch or an Irish whiskey I give a silent toast in honor of you and the day you cheated death with the help of some friends of the Diptera clan. While I savor the oak bouquet of an aged spirit, dancing on the tip of my tongue, leaving behind a hint of smoky vanilla on the back of my palate 🙂 I smile at our commentaries on the animal kingdom, both of us mildly high on grass, whiskey, and endorphins of touch and good company…then the pandemic hit, and just like that you were gone. I tried, I cried and I struggled, letting my own fear of losing your grip harder, fighting for you with my own anger and insecurities as my rational mind stood by and watched. I have vowed to not let my heart harden, to always be open for love. But I cannot…not yet, I’ve tried. My only hope is to write you out of my system and in that process may my heart with her rose-tinted view of the world return. I miss her.
I’ve started listening to your music again, most recently along my drives between HI and Buffalo. I listen to your music because I enjoy it, I really dig your writing style and the instrumental sounds in your songs. Mom and I listen to your music during our rides to Roswell, peppered in of course between the Beatles and Cat Stevens (The Seven Sisters and the Beatles Ob la Di are our favorites) these songs make us feel better, they give us abandon moments of joy while singing out loud, allowing us to forget about cancer and how scared we really are.
Unfortunately, your music makes loosening the “grip” of missing you that much harder, deepening the grooves of unrequited love.
I could go on I suppose, there is so much that you gave me in such a short time. I can only hope that in the wake of the damage thats ensued during the rising crest of a pandemic, a budding romance that was eclipesed by the many dynamic shades of stained glass fear, would never lose its beauty and that some day I would see you again.
Intellect and love are made of different materials. Intellect ties people in knots and risks nothing, but love dissolves all tangles and risks everything. Intellect is always cautious and advises, ‘Beware too much ecstasy’, whereas love says, ‘Oh, never mind! Take the plunge!’ Intellect does not easily break down, whereas love can effortlessly reduce itself to rubble. But treasures are hidden among ruins. A broken heart hides treasures. ~Forty Rules of Love, Shams of Tabriz, 1242 AD
Thru soulful eyes 