Just Like Faramir.

For some reason it really hit me the other day, the degree to which I live my life internally. So much going on inside that never makes its way out. I think I struggle with depression because I struggle so constantly to find my calling. It's hard sometimes, to think about getting older and not feel that much progress is being made. I am so hung up on titles and rarely give myself credit for what I actually do. I am my own worst enemy, this I know. I told Ryan that it took me six months to stop hearing "you are worthless" with each in-breath. No longer that frequent, it is still there with a nagging desperation, winter's cold breeze on the heels of springtime. You can't really plant anew until that fear of frost is gone.

According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it.

Direction. If only I had a compass to show me what to do, which steps to take... but the future is not ours. Faith, and patience.

A Dedication.

I used to look forward to the Friday nights so much. There are times in your life that are simply magical, and there is no other way to describe it than that. I would get the first call at around five, and if it was after that I would get anxious. By the time she'd show up it was near half time and the jack and coke would flow like water. There is a deep, deep love that I have for you, and I keep it like a secret. There is no one else in the world that I would rather have on my A team, because of everything. Because you don't think it's sin, and instead of judging me you helped me get rid of the one and told me to call the other to come over. For everything. I think now that I understand a little bit better, the need to hold onto each second even though you know it's fleeting. Even though some part of you knows that it is folly. But you know what? It's not. Life is solitary moments strung together and there is nothing for it but to go balls to the wall. I wouldn't trade the heartache and I know you wouldn't either. The world breaks everyone, Anne. Some grow stronger at the broken places.

Thank you for that.

Disambiguation.

He said it started years ago, he pulled me closer as he talked about it and the words melted into the hairs on the back of my neck. I dared not speak or stir for fear that the moment would evaporate or crush under the weight of my disbelief. I danced around the eggshells and just listened to him talk, lost in the void of being between coming and going. His breath lingered heavily around my mouth, dark and sweet, and when he kissed me something stirred within my chest as if in sleep.

"I miss you already," said the text that came at 5:30 this morning. When we had parted two hours earlier he looked deep into me, down to the core, the three years of longing and the fear of long distance and the bliss of the past five days all hungrily melded together into a fragile and furious gaze that made my heart sink right down to the bottom. I wanted to give him everything. "I will be here when you get back," it was all I could offer standing there in the snow and the cold and the dark, and once said I wished I had instead let the silence carry the weight of that gaze. "You don’t know that for sure," he looked away, and the spell was broken.

How cruel a fate, to be at once in love and also heartbroken, with the same person.

Raise High The Roofbeams, Carpenters.

It's there, the damn acid in the pit of my stomach, the weight that I didn't think would exist. I can't swallow it, it's stuck in my throat. I keep seeing your face and feeling those strong calloused hands, hard to breathe. I don't even want to be at work because that reminds me of you, too. I don't like to be vulnerable and I don't know how it crept up on me. And I feel so silly for it, but somehow more alive than I was before.

I thought the present you gave me yesterday (my unfaltering grin) would stay with me all day today, but I can't muster it now that I know you're really gone. Today is going to be really, really long. Down to go up.

Like A Polaroid Picture

I kissed the tattoo that sprawled across his shoulders and tried to remember what it was like to have that rock in the pit of my stomach, to have that gnawing desperation that this might one day end. Somewhere along the way I turned down the volume of my emotions, and I don't know how to crank them back up. He turned over and his eyes radiated passion, desire; I looked away because I knew my return gaze didn't match the intensity. That's a lonely feeling.

And I placate my fear partially by admitting that the only other one after Ryan was a total dud, that the experience taught me to not care, to be prepared to walk away at a moment's notice. Like marking time until a better one comes along. Except a better one came along and I don't feel much of anything, I still feel that I could move on two minutes from now. Part of being human is having weakness and vulnerability, being able to share that with another person. Down to go up and all that. There are tears on the precipice behind my eyeballs that I don't even share with Anne. I don't think that it's strength to have hardened my heart to the world. I think it's unhealthy, and I worry about what it's going to look like when something pokes through the crust.

A Start.

warm air and the smell of cigarettes,
early summer evening feel of alcohol buzz wearing off
like someplace more exotic than this,
like spending the late afternoon drinking rum drinks in a pool at a rental house.

like spending the whole summer like that.

it is november and the last warm spell clings greedily to the calendar
we don't have the pool but the long shadows cast by a heavy sun bring the same ease
it is all that i care about, that she understands me and i her.
the same bends on the same jog at night down the same old neighborhoods.
everything else in this life will change, but not that.

The Way I Wanted To

I'm supposed to be the one who never loses composure, least of all in front of you. There are too many expectations to slip for a second. Everyone is waiting for it to happen and I wonder what it's like for Anne, if she ever feels that way. We argued all night Friday and I stood in your driveway just trying to get past you to my truck, I thought about Mom and the pot of coffee and there were tiny cracks starting to form in the exterior, I was glad it was night and dark. I don't know why I'm even still pursuing you, you don't act like you're even interested until everyone's gone. Maybe it's the challenge. Maybe I'm too busy being pissed off to be able to see what's really going on with my other emotions. Need to learn to throw in the towel when it's time.

Daggers and claws. Who is the bigger idiot in this situation. Mon innocence me faire pleurer.