i tell a story, therefore i exist.
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/shekhar_kapur_we_are_the_stories_we_tell_ourselves.html
it is time for a new story.
lately i have been having this melancholy edge to dailiness.
What if i never love again? What if the youth of my skin is never shared- what if the depth of who i am remains unmatched in companionship.
I can handle that. But there are some days i just yearn for the scent of maleness. to bury my face in a scruffy chest. to walk slowly beside and share the mutual secret of togetherness understood.
it is not so hard to imagine that i may never share this.
"the best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour".
if this is true, i am a lone wolf beginning, middle, and end. The only ghost that sticks with me is the memory of another wolf i briefly knew too young, too early, too soon before i knew myself, and much before he knew himself. dear wolf, lone drummer boy from the cornfields of the midwest, father to a princess i never knew but somehow deeply loved as a child-mirage, dear wolf who struggles to know himself and his life, dear wolf who is meant to lead, dear wolf, boy of a thousand small sorrows, dear wolf, man who knows what it is to look at someone and know they will never truly see you.
dear, dearest wolf. you stick when i wish you did not.
part of me inside, knew, knows, will always know, it was the only time i truly knew the fleeting chance of companionship passed in front of me, paused briefly, and floated up like a bubble into a delicate burst of nothingness.
Jane Urquhart said it best. "it was nothing. it was everything".
indeed it was nothing. indeed it was everything. indeed part of me wonders how much of you truly exists and how much is my own construction of a sandcastle in sthe sky.
it could have been. it might have been. it was not. it will not. but it does remain to haunt. even at that time i knew i was at the wrong time in life to have met, i knew. but you cannot prevent these experience excet to grow.
Even now i have surprising moments where i yearn for you with shocking sadness that i just do not understand. Why does my ghost call yours? Why does it keep calling? Why?
I have loved others since. I have loved others more deeply, more compatibly. And yet you haunt in the tiniest deepest inner recesses. I don't know why.
And so now i prepare myself, to leave for a month of contemplation. I will return to the ghosts of my roots, before i met wolf. before my life became this adult bemused complexity. before grey hair. before the dream of children and family and a quiet life of companionship fluttered away into the breeze. before i saw the truth i see now, that spke to me in tiny sad whispers as a child. This life of family, this life of babies and husbands and stationwagons and homemaking. This life is not for you.
How is it that we know these things long before they happen- so desperate was i in my 20s to find someone, fighting against the deep quiet, inner voice that has told me since i was a child- alea, you will be alone in this life.
yes. i will. i know. tentare de accettare con calma quello che mi capita in questa vita. its not easy. never was. probably isn't for anyone either, i guess.
and today, i prepare. i let this vague wanting ache wash over me delicately. i let it rest like shadows in my eyes. i let the daydreams cling to my hair. i let those tiny hopes sag heavy on my breasts. i walk at twilight.
i wait.
the simplicity of sweaty limbs intertwining in a summer evening's humidity wishfully weighs on my thighs.
i allow it to stay there and to move me forwards.
i no longer judge those who accept fleeting one nights of connection. i no longer judge.
**
i miss you, dear wolf. I don't know why. i never did know why. It makes no sense. but i will go - i will find that small town, i will find that tiny church, i will light that tiny candle for you. And i will thank the presence that surrounds me, for giving me the brief, too-soon-too-young time i did have with you. And i will breathe i am sorry for my wrong words. I am sorry with everything inside me. will always be.
**
