Tonight I looked at the dormant fireplace. I have lit it a couple of times this year, but not nearly as much as we did when you lived here. I thought about the times we sat when it was so cold – last winter seems so cold now compared to this one – by the fireplace and smoked cigarettes… which led me to thinking about sitting by the fireplace, with the smell of the burnt wood, and smoking, at your mother’s house. Then I thought that you don’t smoke anymore and it made me happy and sad. It made me happy and sad in the same way that the thoughts of hearth-side smoking did. There are so many memories surrounding so many things, but there seems like a special amount of them surrounding cigarettes: the first night on Gates’ porch when I saw the shooting stars that you didn’t, sitting on the porch at various parties, the pool house, the car port at Ashley’s, my parents back porch, in my car and yours, on trips and around town, Jeremy’s porch shivering, and even sitting in your window after you moved out. I guess that’s one of the reasons why it is hard to give the habit up. It is also why it is hard to give you up, too many memories. But there has been a slight shift. These memories used to only make me sad. They still do, but strangely they make me smile at the same time. I am sitting here right now looking at the fireplace, crying and...
Knowing you were out of town this weekend, made this town seem a tad lonely to me. I mean, I had a great weekend so far in many ways, but you not being here made things seem slightly off-kilter. There have been other times when you have been gone when I also felt like this. When I would drive past your house and your car was not there, nor were the lights on, for two days, I would assume that you were in Sparkle, or visiting Nate, etc. I guess since we have split, maybe I keep grabbing for straws, but I do like this city more with you in it than I liked it before you were here. I can’t really put my fingers on it, but I know that you care about me, and it is comforting to know that even if we don’t see each other or talk that much, a person that lives right down the street from me has my best interest at heart, wants me to be happy and fulfilled. Hopefully you get some comfort in knowing that I am down here thinking the same things about you. I guess all of this comes out of my fear that you will leave. This city will never be the same – not for me or many others. I know it may be what you have to do though. I wish that you had been able to make more of a go of it here already. It’s never too late to start. I will support you, though, in whatever you need to do. I hope...
Please read bullpencatcher. I am so much better in many ways. There is beauty inside me. I pray about you before I fall to sleep, and dream about you as I daily slough off this mortal coil. I want to dance with you tonight to the tune of a two-fingered gypsy guitarist – or to the the sound of you humming Sam Cooke in my ear. You light me up. I only wish I could do the same for...
I don’t know why, but possibly out of restlessness, I strike out after midnight tonight and I see the blooms of the dogwood tree gleaming in the light of the sodium halide street lamp. It is February still, but Spring is already coming to this town. Outside of my house, the singular daffodil is starting its bloom as well, and the smell of burning wood has subsided on this end of the street. Soon there will be weeding to be done. Our hands could be turned bright green before we could even snap our sweaty fingers. My car, during this early warming, has lost one of its front lights. In high school we used to call it popeye, and upon seeing one you either had to kiss or punch the person you were with. Amongst dudes it usually was a punch; amongst mixed company, the kiss was more popular. I spent the better part of one Spring evening sitting on a stone wall when I was 18 with a woman kissing at the sight of every popeye. One would have thought that every car in town had one headlight extinguished by the passion that we felt for each other that night. Later she would ask me to her prom and I would weasel out. Then she would become a nurse in Minnesota. She would marry and have a child. She would live near the headwaters of the Mississippi. She would see it fed by the meltwaters of spring. I doubt she ever thinks about me, or these things now. I guess this time of the year brings hope to...
I don’t have much time to write today, but you know how I usually like to do a post-mortem on our conversations… I know you are feeling down right now, but if you could look at objectively, I think you would realize how much love surrounds you. From your family, to your Sparkle friends, to your friends here, including me. We are all here to support you in getting and feeling better. Don’t hesitate to use us. Don’t feel alone, because you never really are. I definitely know the feeling that you are having right now. I have been through it, and I can say that it does and will get better. You are in a period of discovering things about yourself right now. That can be very difficult, but I promise at the in the process you will realize what all of the rest of us see in you. You will blossom. I told you in the thing that I wrote you for your birthday that I thought you were bound for greatness. I still wholeheartedly believe that. I am here for you if you need me. I love...
I think I thought you were the baseball in the poem for so long. You felt so soft and comfortable and good in my hands. There was no need for other projectiles. It’s time to stop throwing things. I used to have a baseball from when I played little league. I looked for it last night, but could not find...
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world… There is a juggler just down the boardwalk there and he has been doing it for six months or so now. Every day. Every day adding a new item: bowling ball, helium balloon, toaster, ping pong ball. How he keeps these things in motion. Always just one in the hand, the others in the air. How he keeps the birds above entertained, and the sandal-and-sock-wearing drunk old men, coming out of the casinos, so very enthralled. At night, when the juggler is home alone, in his attic appartment overlooking the alley where they filmed those fight scenes in Barfly, he sometimes dreams in an Irish accent of drunken perambulations around another city, another time. His hands finally rest. His arms can luxuriate in cotton, and springs, and sleep. He dreams of a girl distant and lost now, that once meant something to him, but he can’t remember what, can’t fully remember her. Not a mother, or a lover, just a girl, and a footprint, and a gale blowing up the face of a cliff. He dreams Hollywood car crash scenes on the rocks below. Or Holden standing there catching VW Squarebacks full of grade-school children. You would think his muscle memory would be such that even in his sleep he would juggle, but every day it is like learning it all over again. Learning the tricks, how to work the stilts, where to hide the canary. What is the sound of one...
I have thought today about discontinuing this, stop communicating with you at all. I don’t really know why I cannot get you out of my system. I wish I could figure it out. I really wish that I could see the future, to know that I will find a love like you, or even greater, somewhere down the road. I know that is the human condition though; we cannot know if, or when, things will work out. I am so thankful to you for what you said before you left last night. I guess I have thought that the majority of your memories throughout all of this have been about how screwed up I am, and how much I hurt you. To know that you think so many positive things about me, and me and you, means a lot. With that said, I should tell you… You were also the best sex I have ever had. You are the most charismatic person I have ever met when you are not down. You are also the most beautiful woman I have ever dated. You are the most naturally gifted and talented person I know. You have an incredible heart, and an equally impressive head on your shoulders. You really were what I was looking for, and because of that, it is difficult to get over you. I know that I can find someone else if it is not you, but it has seemed to me worth trying to get you back, since I know you were what I was looking for, what I had waited for. I know I need...
I have tried an experiment today. Wake up, put a smile on your face even if it is forced, and see how the day goes. It seems to be working. Suddenly I feel a rush of the happy chemicals to my head. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday. Maybe my mind is slowly changing still. Hope you’ve had a good day. Hope you have a good...
I haven’t had the best week so far. I found out a friend had to be put in the hospital this past weekend and he has a tumor in his stomach that is causing internal bleeding. An uncle of mine died yesterday. Two other friends are dealing with their own personal/family dramas and seem to be taking it out on me and everyone else. Sometimes it seems like the sky is falling. If you pray, please keep me in them. I know the thing I wrote yesterday seems like I have all of my shit together, but I need help and hope at times too, and I am finding it hard to identify a source for those things now. I hope things are more stable for...
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