"Don't you know that if it wasn't for the hard decisions I would be waking up next to your face right now?"
Remember the morning you said that to me, Professora? First week of January. In the parking lot right off of the corner of Sylvan and Wheaton Way. It was cold, early. I didn't tell anyone I was leaving, you were on your way to taking the girls to school. I was pretty fresh off the road from another visit down south. You were just in from another snowy visit to Colorado. We were estranged in only the way that lovers can be. You were close to the edge of breaking things off with me completely once again, yet had just written me one dynamite letter letting me know that you still thought of me daily, that you still had the desire to call, that you wondered whether or not you would do it again. Only moments before, immediately after rolling up alongside my car, you told me, not just once, but twice:
"Yes, I would do it all over again"
What a different woman you were back then, M. Not waving the sad little waves, not rolling by at 25 and pointing at me, but rather, one who didn't mind stopping and hugging and telling me things that still, back in the not so long ago past, would enflame me and keep me going for days and weeks at a time. No wonder I had such a hard time letting go. The mixed messages, the words between the lines, the unspoken poetry of your gazes, the gifts taken, the thank you's neglected.
But when I read today's posting from Tut in my email box I immediately thought of you and our lives and know that the hard decisions we made are the way of the world. The hard choices we made yesterday are the foundation of the hard lived lives we deal with later on in the unforeseen future. I know what those hard choices meant for you and how things turned out for you because of them. Somewhere along the line those choices included unforeseen stuff, including a pact with the Detective that meant giving up a certain sort of freedom, somewhat like giving away part of your soul in order to maintain the peace in order to please your unseen God and maintain your home in that country club setting.
What a bummer.
In the end my hard choices got me lines on my face, a house on the market, my kids at five hundred miles, a very narrow window of time to work with before I leave and a very crazy life well spent, integrity intact. A life lived without you was the given, I suppose. Maybe it was all upfront and I didn't see it. Maybe those hard choices needed to be made, to be lived, in order for me to know, really know, what the ultimate price of true love is.
Your WHMB
A word from TUT:
"Nope. No one on this end is authorized, or even interested, in telling someone on your end when their thoughts are in conflict. Can you blame us? We'd immediately risk being labeled critical, unsupportive, and misguided. Forget it!But that's perfectly all right, Wally, because under the current system everyone eventually discovers truth... either through manifesting so much chaos they're forced to ask the hard questions, or through just plain asking the hard questions from the get-go.
Win-win, sort of.
Love you masses,
The Universe.
PS Roger, introspection is an amazing tool!
Remember the morning you said that to me, Professora? First week of January. In the parking lot right off of the corner of Sylvan and Wheaton Way. It was cold, early. I didn't tell anyone I was leaving, you were on your way to taking the girls to school. I was pretty fresh off the road from another visit down south. You were just in from another snowy visit to Colorado. We were estranged in only the way that lovers can be. You were close to the edge of breaking things off with me completely once again, yet had just written me one dynamite letter letting me know that you still thought of me daily, that you still had the desire to call, that you wondered whether or not you would do it again. Only moments before, immediately after rolling up alongside my car, you told me, not just once, but twice:
"Yes, I would do it all over again"
What a different woman you were back then, M. Not waving the sad little waves, not rolling by at 25 and pointing at me, but rather, one who didn't mind stopping and hugging and telling me things that still, back in the not so long ago past, would enflame me and keep me going for days and weeks at a time. No wonder I had such a hard time letting go. The mixed messages, the words between the lines, the unspoken poetry of your gazes, the gifts taken, the thank you's neglected.
But when I read today's posting from Tut in my email box I immediately thought of you and our lives and know that the hard decisions we made are the way of the world. The hard choices we made yesterday are the foundation of the hard lived lives we deal with later on in the unforeseen future. I know what those hard choices meant for you and how things turned out for you because of them. Somewhere along the line those choices included unforeseen stuff, including a pact with the Detective that meant giving up a certain sort of freedom, somewhat like giving away part of your soul in order to maintain the peace in order to please your unseen God and maintain your home in that country club setting.
What a bummer.
In the end my hard choices got me lines on my face, a house on the market, my kids at five hundred miles, a very narrow window of time to work with before I leave and a very crazy life well spent, integrity intact. A life lived without you was the given, I suppose. Maybe it was all upfront and I didn't see it. Maybe those hard choices needed to be made, to be lived, in order for me to know, really know, what the ultimate price of true love is.
Your WHMB
A word from TUT:
"Nope. No one on this end is authorized, or even interested, in telling someone on your end when their thoughts are in conflict. Can you blame us? We'd immediately risk being labeled critical, unsupportive, and misguided. Forget it!But that's perfectly all right, Wally, because under the current system everyone eventually discovers truth... either through manifesting so much chaos they're forced to ask the hard questions, or through just plain asking the hard questions from the get-go.
Win-win, sort of.
Love you masses,
The Universe.
PS Roger, introspection is an amazing tool!
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