It's alright to look back, but it's rude to stare...
Fell in love with a guy once because he was more of a wordwhore than I was--both of us were loquacious writers and voracious readers. His taste in music also drew me in. He was the only person I've ever met whose tastes encompassed mine and then surpassed them. Where I heard a tune and either consumed it or set it aside, he heard poetry and kept it all. The man astounded me.
We shared an adoration of NPR, too. Many's the lunchbreak we'd spend on the phone, talking about things he'd heard on Writer's Almanac, things I'd heard on Morning Edition, memories or thoughts those things sparked...
He was the first man who ever realised that my most powerful erogenous zone was between my ears. Draped me in poetry like other men try to do with jewelry. Made love to me with words long before he ever touched my skin. Introduced me to Erica Jong and Susie Bright and Robert M. Pirsig and Banana Yoshimoto, technicoloured my life for a while. Then reminded me that my body was a temple by worshipping at the altar for hours on end. Sweet God, that man...
This fellow changed the way I look at the world. Helped me appreciate the journey, not just long for the destination. Showed me the divinity in all the common things...
Things between us ended gracelessly. Despite being in the same close-knit social circle, we've managed to neither see nor speak to one another more than twice since. And that makes me sad. I miss him, miss the conversations and the comfortable silences. Sometimes something will remind me of him, and I'll reach immediately for the phone or the e-mail to share it with him...but then remember that he hasn't answered either from me since we split, and that he's happier this way...
...
...
...
This afternoon, I was listening to NPR. I don't know if the program is nationwide or just specific to our local station, but it made me think of him. Independently released folk music, either traditional Celtic stuff or stuff about Celtic life. No big huge names, just people singing their honestly-written lyrics. Straight up his alley. He's probably heard of a few of these people...
Today, I was able to listen without that edge of bitterness or regret.
Today, I could remember the things that were beautiful about us and smile.
And I didn't pick up the phone. And I didn't e-mail him.
(I have, however, posted this... ~sheepish smile, shrug~)
So that's something, right?
We shared an adoration of NPR, too. Many's the lunchbreak we'd spend on the phone, talking about things he'd heard on Writer's Almanac, things I'd heard on Morning Edition, memories or thoughts those things sparked...
He was the first man who ever realised that my most powerful erogenous zone was between my ears. Draped me in poetry like other men try to do with jewelry. Made love to me with words long before he ever touched my skin. Introduced me to Erica Jong and Susie Bright and Robert M. Pirsig and Banana Yoshimoto, technicoloured my life for a while. Then reminded me that my body was a temple by worshipping at the altar for hours on end. Sweet God, that man...
This fellow changed the way I look at the world. Helped me appreciate the journey, not just long for the destination. Showed me the divinity in all the common things...
Things between us ended gracelessly. Despite being in the same close-knit social circle, we've managed to neither see nor speak to one another more than twice since. And that makes me sad. I miss him, miss the conversations and the comfortable silences. Sometimes something will remind me of him, and I'll reach immediately for the phone or the e-mail to share it with him...but then remember that he hasn't answered either from me since we split, and that he's happier this way...
...
...
...
This afternoon, I was listening to NPR. I don't know if the program is nationwide or just specific to our local station, but it made me think of him. Independently released folk music, either traditional Celtic stuff or stuff about Celtic life. No big huge names, just people singing their honestly-written lyrics. Straight up his alley. He's probably heard of a few of these people...
Today, I was able to listen without that edge of bitterness or regret.
Today, I could remember the things that were beautiful about us and smile.
And I didn't pick up the phone. And I didn't e-mail him.
(I have, however, posted this... ~sheepish smile, shrug~)
So that's something, right?
posted by ~*Luca at 2:13 PM
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