I thought I saw you last night, but woke up and realized it was only a dream.
I've spent a lot of time here lately, writing lines before meals, jotting notes inbetween household duties, fulfilling an assignment that I tasked myself with a long time ago. The end product is just this series of letters you see before you, notes written just to let you know where I am and to let the world know where we've been. It was just meant to be an inventory list, a review of the contents of our satchel, but I can see that it's turning out to be a bit more than that. A sort of book in the making, an open journey of the heart, an expose of a classic love story that was turned out into the cold before it's time.
I've spent a lot of time here lately, writing lines before meals, jotting notes inbetween household duties, fulfilling an assignment that I tasked myself with a long time ago. The end product is just this series of letters you see before you, notes written just to let you know where I am and to let the world know where we've been. It was just meant to be an inventory list, a review of the contents of our satchel, but I can see that it's turning out to be a bit more than that. A sort of book in the making, an open journey of the heart, an expose of a classic love story that was turned out into the cold before it's time.
One thing that I've discovered is that the lands of our subconcious cannot be inventoried nor be made sense of. I don't know where I stand as far as your dreams are concerned, but last night you visited mine once again. Third time in as many months. In last night's dream you came to me at work. It was a library setting, a very strange one as familiar places in dreams can be. I still remember the way you talked to me, in a way that was dismissive, not so much angry or off putting, but more in a way that said that even though you loved me I needed to let you go. Afterwards I was asked by a coworker to give her the address of this blog so she could pass it along to you. "If she could see what you write here things might be different" she said, but I couldn't remember the address. I woke up wondering what the name of this piece was. Finally figured out that it was only a dream.
Once the sun comes up we sometimes find that our waking lives are not too much different from our dreams. I may have this silly fantasy about finding you again out in the real world but the truth is that our lives are the same as they've been for the last three years. For the sake of family and convention and God we are apart. That's that.
Once the sun comes up we sometimes find that our waking lives are not too much different from our dreams. I may have this silly fantasy about finding you again out in the real world but the truth is that our lives are the same as they've been for the last three years. For the sake of family and convention and God we are apart. That's that.
Yes, there is that very public side of our lives, the one that has been made perfectly clear that you've left me behind, that you'll have no contact with me, that you'd crash private email boxes and leave others open for The Detective's scrutiny. Then there are our private lives, the one's that are filled with hard decisions, hard partings and "I love you, too"'s. I am sure that your socially focused side of life is once again filled with duties and friends and obligations, school runs and church functions and family affairs. All well and good. I'm sure that The Detective pretty much leaves you to your own devices these days and that you've gone back to being able to run around with girlfriends unfettered. If that's the case then I am happy for you.
As for me, it is springtime and I have sprung back to life again. I have rediscovered the joy of yard work, continue to cook with glee, read a new title once a month with the book group whether I like it or not. I thrill in sharing new films each month with my film discussion group, participate in committees, second hand once in a while, drink my wine on the weekends and work the public desk to the best of my ability. My oldest is back home for the summer and that's grand. I have people over for supper alot these days, and in doing so have found out one the sweetest secrets of them all, and that is when you have folks over for dinner they tend to ask you to come eat over at their homes as well. Nice all the way around.
With such a full life you would think that there would be no reason to see you after hours, but there's no accounting for that dream state. Sometimes those dreams are lived when I'm asleep, sometimes while I'm fully awake. I don't have to be lying in my bed to find you there, not in a lascivous way, mind you, but in that way that we tended to share my bed, in that fully dressed, eating Dove bars, talking over books kind of way. We had our time and that time is past, but our spirit still lingers there in such a way that I've had the worst time shaking it. Yes, our public lives say that we are no longer lovers, that our lives are split and never the twain shall meet. But in the world that lives outside the realm of convention, there you are, and there we are, fully realized if somewhat unhappy about the hard choices we had to make.
Yes, you continue to show up in my dreams and ask me to let you go in order for both of us to rest, to get on with our lives. We haven' t seen each other in over a year so in some ways it's true but there you are anyway, gracing my late night viewing with your supplications. I'm sure what has brought it on are my daily musings here. No matter what the final story line is, feel free to come and go out of my dreams, kiddo. My inner life, like yours, is a fluid one. We must be free to travel back and forth to that treasured realm, the one where we both lived and loved for awhile, if only to make sense of our martyred present.
As for me, it is springtime and I have sprung back to life again. I have rediscovered the joy of yard work, continue to cook with glee, read a new title once a month with the book group whether I like it or not. I thrill in sharing new films each month with my film discussion group, participate in committees, second hand once in a while, drink my wine on the weekends and work the public desk to the best of my ability. My oldest is back home for the summer and that's grand. I have people over for supper alot these days, and in doing so have found out one the sweetest secrets of them all, and that is when you have folks over for dinner they tend to ask you to come eat over at their homes as well. Nice all the way around.
With such a full life you would think that there would be no reason to see you after hours, but there's no accounting for that dream state. Sometimes those dreams are lived when I'm asleep, sometimes while I'm fully awake. I don't have to be lying in my bed to find you there, not in a lascivous way, mind you, but in that way that we tended to share my bed, in that fully dressed, eating Dove bars, talking over books kind of way. We had our time and that time is past, but our spirit still lingers there in such a way that I've had the worst time shaking it. Yes, our public lives say that we are no longer lovers, that our lives are split and never the twain shall meet. But in the world that lives outside the realm of convention, there you are, and there we are, fully realized if somewhat unhappy about the hard choices we had to make.
Yes, you continue to show up in my dreams and ask me to let you go in order for both of us to rest, to get on with our lives. We haven' t seen each other in over a year so in some ways it's true but there you are anyway, gracing my late night viewing with your supplications. I'm sure what has brought it on are my daily musings here. No matter what the final story line is, feel free to come and go out of my dreams, kiddo. My inner life, like yours, is a fluid one. We must be free to travel back and forth to that treasured realm, the one where we both lived and loved for awhile, if only to make sense of our martyred present.
Yeah, I'll see you around, hon, even if it's only in my dreams.
Your WHMB
Your WHMB
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