She dreads going in. Dreads talking. Opening up. It's not her thing. She's used to being the passive-aggressive bottle-it-up type. It suits her. This talking thing, it doesn't suit her. But she knows she needs to be here. Needs to talk to someone or risk exploding from bottling up years of pent up frustration and emotions. Problem is she doesn't know where to begin.
"I'm glad you've come back." The perky Sarah Palin look-alike says to her. She looks too much like Sarah for her own tastes.
After about a minute of staring at the floor, she looks up at the good doctor. "Suppose it'll do me good."
"Yes, I do believe it will. So where would you like to begin? Tell me about your week, about what's been going on since we last met two weeks ago?"
She wants to tell the good doctor that she's had the week from hell. That's it's been two insane weeks of hell. That she feels suffocated and in need of air. That she clenches her jaw every time the phone rings. That she is obviously annoyed when people ask her stupid questions or any questions at all. That's she's tired of family obligations and being the oh-so-responsbile one. She's worn out as the lines on her face and the puffy bags under her eyes will surely indicate. She just wants to crawl under the bed covers and never get out. Better yet, she wants to crawl into a deep dark hole and never get out.
"I feel suffocated." She lets out a deep breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Let's talk about that."
Monday, February 23, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Beautiful
“Congratulations, Amy.” Brian brushed a kiss across her cheek.
“Thank you.” She beamed a dazzling smile at him; his friend made a gorgeous bride, he thought.
A familiar laugh captured his attention. Brian turned around to see her talking to Bill.
When he looked back at Amy, her eyes danced. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
“Hmm,” he answered noncommittally. She’s breathtaking, he thought.
“She’s in love with you, you know.”
“What? No. We’re just friends.”
“Look, I’ve told her, now I’m telling you, Brian: life’s short; be happy.”
“Newlyweds just want to pair off everyone, don't they?”
“That’s not it. Well, not exactly.” She sighed. “You two are meant for each other."
“Thank you.” She beamed a dazzling smile at him; his friend made a gorgeous bride, he thought.
A familiar laugh captured his attention. Brian turned around to see her talking to Bill.
When he looked back at Amy, her eyes danced. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
“Hmm,” he answered noncommittally. She’s breathtaking, he thought.
“She’s in love with you, you know.”
“What? No. We’re just friends.”
“Look, I’ve told her, now I’m telling you, Brian: life’s short; be happy.”
“Newlyweds just want to pair off everyone, don't they?”
“That’s not it. Well, not exactly.” She sighed. “You two are meant for each other."
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Reunion
He knocks on her door, tentatively. He's never been there before. This visit is going to be odd. As if that's the right word to describe it. She hasn't seen him in years. Ten to be exact. For all she knows he's gained twenty pounds, gone bald and grown a full beard. Truth is she's not sure what to expect. She's not expecting much, however. She's learned.
She's had old friends come to visit before but this isn't one of those times. He was never really a friend. A lover, yes, but not a friend. She never understood that part. How can you be with someone in the most intimate of ways, yet feel so far apart from them at the same time? Necessity and convenience is what best describes their then relationship. Those were dark times and reliving them is going to be painful, like undergoing self-exploration to a place that you've long wanted to forget. They're past that, right? She was madly in love with a man who was madly in love with someone else. It was that simple. She's learned that nothing is ever that simple. It was torture.
But that's all in the past now. Isn't it? She's sure of it. Things have indeed changed. She has changed and she somehow feels he has too. Maybe they're ready to be friends. Not close going-out-every-Friday-night type friends but two people who share information in the hopes of contributing to each others lives. Yeah, friends sounds nice. Doesn't it?
Her hand grabs the door handle but she's nervous. She's tempted to look out the peep hole but she doesn't. She knows it's him. She can feel his presence behind the door, an ironic similarity of the walls each of them long created for themselves. She opens the door and there he is. Ten pounds overweight, slightly bald, completely gray hair and mustache. She smiles because despite his appearance she can still see the man he was when she met him, handsome and charming. Now he seems like an old man, burdened by the weight of the world, unhappy and regretful.
She's thought of him often during the past ten years. Wondered what he was doing and how his life was going. She wondered how he filled his days. She wondered if he still went to bed late and whether he still woke up early. She missed him and wonders if he thinks of her too.
He smiles back and takes her in. She hasn't really changed much. She lost some weight and appears to have more self-confidence than he remembers. She invites him in. She's almost tempted to hug him but that would be wrong. Worse, it'd be weird. That was a whole level of intimacy they never shared and now it would seem inappropriate. But to her shock and surprise he hugs her. He envelops her in his arms and a part of her wants to cry. This man made her cry so much that there aren't any tears left to spare so she doesn't.
She wraps her arms around him, cautiously. She tells him how good it is to see him again and that she's glad he decided to visit and catch up. She takes a few moments to show him around. He's impressed with the renovation work done on the old house. He remembers how much she used to mention loving the character of old homes and how new homes could never compare. He seems unphased by her choice of colors and classic-style furniture. She offers him a drink and he asks for Scotch. She brings out a bottle of Johnny Walker Black and pours him a glass. She gets a bottle of mineral water for herself figuring it's best that she is completely sober during his visit. She brings out some cheese and crackers.
They sit in the living room and talk for almost two hours. He tells her about work and about his family. He's married now with an 8 year son. He shows her a picture. She notices that the boy has his father's eyes. Beautiful eyes that many times she got lost in. She notices his wife and a small part of her dies. She always knew that while they were together, his heart still belonged to her. And though they were broken up at the time, she always knew he belonged with her and that he would never love her the way he loved his ex. And though she long accepted that truth, it still stung so many years later.
She wasn't surprised when she heard that he had gotten married. She always wanted the best for him. She's surprised that he's revealed so much. He was never one to talk about his feelings. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of it. When they both started seeing one another, she was the gregarious one, full of hope and life while he was hurting and on the rebound. Fool that she was, she figured she would get him to see that life went on and that she was a pretty special someone to share it with. She wanted nothing more than to ease his pain. She did but it wasn't enough to fill the gaping hole in his heart. A hole he inadvertently also left in hers. She underestimated the grief he was in and that no amount of affection from her would replace who he was really longing after.
He gets up and refills his drink and comes toward her. She's feeling a bit unsure of herself and stuffs her mouth with cheese to distract herself. She's done a good job of building a wall around herself since they broke up and wasn't looking to have anyone approach her so readily. He squats beside her and reaches for her hand. He makes small strokes with his thumb. The amount of emotion running through her is intense and something she hasn't experiences since him. She hates that only he can do this to her. His eyes fill with tears and he says words she's not quite sure she's hearing correctly.
"I fucked up. Really bad. You were the only person in my life who was real and loved me completely and I used you to numb my pain and treated you like crap. I have many regrets but my biggest regret is not seeing you, really seeing you, because you are a truly wonderful woman and I was a fool that let you slip by and I want you to know how I so wanted things to be different."
Her heart breaks all over again. A part of her wants to put her arms around him and never let him go but she can't go back to that dark place. She's long over him and she's not sure what he's asking for but whatever it is, she can't give it to him.
He senses her hesitation and looks up at her with tears in his eyes and she can't deny those eyes so she acquiesces and they share a tender embrace. It is the most truly intimate they've ever shared a moment. He was completely vulnerable, something he once admitted to her was a weakness to show.
"I don't expect anything from you but I wanted you to know in case... in case you still felt something. I wish I had done a lot of things differently." He gets back up on his feet and starts to walk around, hesitant of what to say next. He confesses that his marriage is on the rocks, that after many years together they are done with one another. She's not sure what's to blame but if she were to guess it would be his superb communication skills. Not that she was any good at it either. She can vividly remember the nights of sitting quietly on his couch with little said between them except for the buzzing of the television in the background and the lovemaking that was sure to follow.
Now he's back, suddenly very verbal, vulnerable and open with his feelings and she doesn't know what to make of it. Does he expect her to open up and reveal that she's missed him all these years? Screw him! Sure, She's missed him but she's over him and now he's there making all sorts of confessions and she's wondering if being friends was a good thing to begin with. It's too much, too fast, too soon even with all the years between them, it might as well have been yesterday because suddenly she's feeling the walls close in on her again. She isn't in the mood to share her feelings. Why should she? When she did, he rebuffed her and now she doesn't have anything left for anyone else because of him. She'll do what she does best - bottle them up, crack a joke, or run like hell.
She runs her fingers through her hair and walks from the chair toward the window. She suddenly feels safe being across the room from him. She takes a deep breath and watches the birds and envies how easy they have it.
"I love you Frank. I have always loved you and will always love you til my dying day. I only wanted you to be happy and I know you couldn't be happy with me. But you can't waltz in here after all these years and seek comfort with me again because I can't offer you anything. I'm sorry, I have nothing to offer you and am now realizing that being friends is going to be difficult so perhaps we should just stay strangers. That model seems to work for us."
She knows he's not going to argue. She watches his body sink and his face fill with sadness. She senses there's something he needs to tell her but she's not sure she wants to hear it. Not now, not ever, not after all these years. Even if he utters the words she's longed to hear from him, they won't matter now. Her once warm nature has turned cold - a realization of how life has changed her.
He walks over to her and attempts to touch her face and although she wants to shove him off, she lets him.
"Rita. You deserve nothing but happiness and I hope someday you find it and find someone who can give you all the love you deserve. I'm sorry I couldn't be that person."
He puts his glass down on the table and walks over to the door while she watches him from her place by the window. He takes her in, one last time, nothing said but so much implied. She sees a head nod, a gesture of surrender, and a hint of a sad smile. "Keep up the good work on the house." He softly closes the door behind him and she knows that's the last they'll ever see of each other again.
She wonders why people do this to themselves. Why it's so hard to talk when you have so much to say but the words stay stuck in your throat. Words carry a burden, a burden she was never very good at carrying. She goes back and pour herself a Scotch and sinks deep into her thoughts and finally begins to feel a release of closure that she has never felt before. She feels a strange tingling around her heart as though suddenly it had the release it long hoped to have.
She's had old friends come to visit before but this isn't one of those times. He was never really a friend. A lover, yes, but not a friend. She never understood that part. How can you be with someone in the most intimate of ways, yet feel so far apart from them at the same time? Necessity and convenience is what best describes their then relationship. Those were dark times and reliving them is going to be painful, like undergoing self-exploration to a place that you've long wanted to forget. They're past that, right? She was madly in love with a man who was madly in love with someone else. It was that simple. She's learned that nothing is ever that simple. It was torture.
But that's all in the past now. Isn't it? She's sure of it. Things have indeed changed. She has changed and she somehow feels he has too. Maybe they're ready to be friends. Not close going-out-every-Friday-night type friends but two people who share information in the hopes of contributing to each others lives. Yeah, friends sounds nice. Doesn't it?
Her hand grabs the door handle but she's nervous. She's tempted to look out the peep hole but she doesn't. She knows it's him. She can feel his presence behind the door, an ironic similarity of the walls each of them long created for themselves. She opens the door and there he is. Ten pounds overweight, slightly bald, completely gray hair and mustache. She smiles because despite his appearance she can still see the man he was when she met him, handsome and charming. Now he seems like an old man, burdened by the weight of the world, unhappy and regretful.
She's thought of him often during the past ten years. Wondered what he was doing and how his life was going. She wondered how he filled his days. She wondered if he still went to bed late and whether he still woke up early. She missed him and wonders if he thinks of her too.
He smiles back and takes her in. She hasn't really changed much. She lost some weight and appears to have more self-confidence than he remembers. She invites him in. She's almost tempted to hug him but that would be wrong. Worse, it'd be weird. That was a whole level of intimacy they never shared and now it would seem inappropriate. But to her shock and surprise he hugs her. He envelops her in his arms and a part of her wants to cry. This man made her cry so much that there aren't any tears left to spare so she doesn't.
She wraps her arms around him, cautiously. She tells him how good it is to see him again and that she's glad he decided to visit and catch up. She takes a few moments to show him around. He's impressed with the renovation work done on the old house. He remembers how much she used to mention loving the character of old homes and how new homes could never compare. He seems unphased by her choice of colors and classic-style furniture. She offers him a drink and he asks for Scotch. She brings out a bottle of Johnny Walker Black and pours him a glass. She gets a bottle of mineral water for herself figuring it's best that she is completely sober during his visit. She brings out some cheese and crackers.
They sit in the living room and talk for almost two hours. He tells her about work and about his family. He's married now with an 8 year son. He shows her a picture. She notices that the boy has his father's eyes. Beautiful eyes that many times she got lost in. She notices his wife and a small part of her dies. She always knew that while they were together, his heart still belonged to her. And though they were broken up at the time, she always knew he belonged with her and that he would never love her the way he loved his ex. And though she long accepted that truth, it still stung so many years later.
She wasn't surprised when she heard that he had gotten married. She always wanted the best for him. She's surprised that he's revealed so much. He was never one to talk about his feelings. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of it. When they both started seeing one another, she was the gregarious one, full of hope and life while he was hurting and on the rebound. Fool that she was, she figured she would get him to see that life went on and that she was a pretty special someone to share it with. She wanted nothing more than to ease his pain. She did but it wasn't enough to fill the gaping hole in his heart. A hole he inadvertently also left in hers. She underestimated the grief he was in and that no amount of affection from her would replace who he was really longing after.
He gets up and refills his drink and comes toward her. She's feeling a bit unsure of herself and stuffs her mouth with cheese to distract herself. She's done a good job of building a wall around herself since they broke up and wasn't looking to have anyone approach her so readily. He squats beside her and reaches for her hand. He makes small strokes with his thumb. The amount of emotion running through her is intense and something she hasn't experiences since him. She hates that only he can do this to her. His eyes fill with tears and he says words she's not quite sure she's hearing correctly.
"I fucked up. Really bad. You were the only person in my life who was real and loved me completely and I used you to numb my pain and treated you like crap. I have many regrets but my biggest regret is not seeing you, really seeing you, because you are a truly wonderful woman and I was a fool that let you slip by and I want you to know how I so wanted things to be different."
Her heart breaks all over again. A part of her wants to put her arms around him and never let him go but she can't go back to that dark place. She's long over him and she's not sure what he's asking for but whatever it is, she can't give it to him.
He senses her hesitation and looks up at her with tears in his eyes and she can't deny those eyes so she acquiesces and they share a tender embrace. It is the most truly intimate they've ever shared a moment. He was completely vulnerable, something he once admitted to her was a weakness to show.
"I don't expect anything from you but I wanted you to know in case... in case you still felt something. I wish I had done a lot of things differently." He gets back up on his feet and starts to walk around, hesitant of what to say next. He confesses that his marriage is on the rocks, that after many years together they are done with one another. She's not sure what's to blame but if she were to guess it would be his superb communication skills. Not that she was any good at it either. She can vividly remember the nights of sitting quietly on his couch with little said between them except for the buzzing of the television in the background and the lovemaking that was sure to follow.
Now he's back, suddenly very verbal, vulnerable and open with his feelings and she doesn't know what to make of it. Does he expect her to open up and reveal that she's missed him all these years? Screw him! Sure, She's missed him but she's over him and now he's there making all sorts of confessions and she's wondering if being friends was a good thing to begin with. It's too much, too fast, too soon even with all the years between them, it might as well have been yesterday because suddenly she's feeling the walls close in on her again. She isn't in the mood to share her feelings. Why should she? When she did, he rebuffed her and now she doesn't have anything left for anyone else because of him. She'll do what she does best - bottle them up, crack a joke, or run like hell.
She runs her fingers through her hair and walks from the chair toward the window. She suddenly feels safe being across the room from him. She takes a deep breath and watches the birds and envies how easy they have it.
"I love you Frank. I have always loved you and will always love you til my dying day. I only wanted you to be happy and I know you couldn't be happy with me. But you can't waltz in here after all these years and seek comfort with me again because I can't offer you anything. I'm sorry, I have nothing to offer you and am now realizing that being friends is going to be difficult so perhaps we should just stay strangers. That model seems to work for us."
She knows he's not going to argue. She watches his body sink and his face fill with sadness. She senses there's something he needs to tell her but she's not sure she wants to hear it. Not now, not ever, not after all these years. Even if he utters the words she's longed to hear from him, they won't matter now. Her once warm nature has turned cold - a realization of how life has changed her.
He walks over to her and attempts to touch her face and although she wants to shove him off, she lets him.
"Rita. You deserve nothing but happiness and I hope someday you find it and find someone who can give you all the love you deserve. I'm sorry I couldn't be that person."
He puts his glass down on the table and walks over to the door while she watches him from her place by the window. He takes her in, one last time, nothing said but so much implied. She sees a head nod, a gesture of surrender, and a hint of a sad smile. "Keep up the good work on the house." He softly closes the door behind him and she knows that's the last they'll ever see of each other again.
She wonders why people do this to themselves. Why it's so hard to talk when you have so much to say but the words stay stuck in your throat. Words carry a burden, a burden she was never very good at carrying. She goes back and pour herself a Scotch and sinks deep into her thoughts and finally begins to feel a release of closure that she has never felt before. She feels a strange tingling around her heart as though suddenly it had the release it long hoped to have.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Unphased
He wonders when he developed such tough skin. He used to be such a sap. Everything bothered him. Pills that were too big to swallow to peeling paint off his front porch that he did nothing about. He'd always been such a sensitive soul. He chalks it up to being the youngest of seven boys and for living with his aging parents for so long. He blames it on a string of emotionally neurotic ex-girlfriends and micromanaging megalomaniac bosses. Then he finally wakes up and life as he knew it has changed. Well, no, not really. His perception of it did. He thinks back to visiting a crowded coffee shop down town one Saturday morning and actually smelling coffee for the first time and actually taste his donut. It was like experiencing life for the very first time. He was too wrapped up in his daily problems to notice the simple things in life. He was determined to change that. That's right. He wasn't going to sweat the little stuff, hell, he wasn't even going to sweat the big stuff. He would remain cool like a cucumber. He would remain unphased.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Space
He's putting his things in order, packing up boxes and getting luggage ready. It's nearly midnight and there's a hesitant soft knock at the door. He doesn't have to wonder who it is at that late hour. He already knows.
Looking sad and dejected he takes a deep breath and opens the door.
She's on the other side, looking as beautiful as he remembers. He knows she's angry but she's too tired to show it, so instead she appears as sad and dejected as he does.
"May I come in?" she says softly.
He steps aside. "Yeah." He closes the door behind him. She has her arms crossed and looks at him. He looks at her then at the floor, a feeling of guilt suddenly washes over him. About a minute of time passes in what feels like forever.
"Why..." She chokes on her words. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving."
"Figured it would be for the best." He still can't look her in the eye.
"Oh. I see. So you aren't man enough to face me, to tell me what you've decided to just leave town for good. Never to be seen or heard from again."
"I thought it's what you wanted. Never to see me again. Not after..."
"No. I didn't say I never wanted to see you again. I just said we needed time apart."
"It's too hard to stay around here knowing that you hate me and with good reason. I screwed up and I have to live with that the rest of my life."
"I never said I couldn't forgive you. I just need time. Space."
"So that's what I'm going to give you. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"No. Yes. I don't know. I don't want you to leave town. I just want some space, you know, time alone to think things through."
He continues to pack but stops to finally look at her. "I don't deserve you. You're too good for me. You deserve someone better. Someone who won't lie to you. Someone who won't hold back."
She reaches for his hands, rough and calloused, and suddenly misses the feel of them. "Please don't go." She speaks so softly he can barely hear.
"I love you but you deserve better. I have some issues to work through. If we're meant to be together, we will. A little space will do us both good." He holds her hands close to his heart and kisses them softly.
She helps him finish packing and leaves a short time later feeling both a sense of loss and a sense of hope that perhaps what they both need is space to come to an understanding that a greater truth does exist.
Looking sad and dejected he takes a deep breath and opens the door.
She's on the other side, looking as beautiful as he remembers. He knows she's angry but she's too tired to show it, so instead she appears as sad and dejected as he does.
"May I come in?" she says softly.
He steps aside. "Yeah." He closes the door behind him. She has her arms crossed and looks at him. He looks at her then at the floor, a feeling of guilt suddenly washes over him. About a minute of time passes in what feels like forever.
"Why..." She chokes on her words. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving."
"Figured it would be for the best." He still can't look her in the eye.
"Oh. I see. So you aren't man enough to face me, to tell me what you've decided to just leave town for good. Never to be seen or heard from again."
"I thought it's what you wanted. Never to see me again. Not after..."
"No. I didn't say I never wanted to see you again. I just said we needed time apart."
"It's too hard to stay around here knowing that you hate me and with good reason. I screwed up and I have to live with that the rest of my life."
"I never said I couldn't forgive you. I just need time. Space."
"So that's what I'm going to give you. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"No. Yes. I don't know. I don't want you to leave town. I just want some space, you know, time alone to think things through."
He continues to pack but stops to finally look at her. "I don't deserve you. You're too good for me. You deserve someone better. Someone who won't lie to you. Someone who won't hold back."
She reaches for his hands, rough and calloused, and suddenly misses the feel of them. "Please don't go." She speaks so softly he can barely hear.
"I love you but you deserve better. I have some issues to work through. If we're meant to be together, we will. A little space will do us both good." He holds her hands close to his heart and kisses them softly.
She helps him finish packing and leaves a short time later feeling both a sense of loss and a sense of hope that perhaps what they both need is space to come to an understanding that a greater truth does exist.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Cold
It was the middle of December.
She had been cold and lonely. Two of the things she hated most in the world. The kinds of things that wool sweaters and hot cocoa couldn't quite chase away. No matter how hard she tried. The cold was deep inside, unreachable. Hard to explain. Hard to shake off but there it was, threatening to once again swallow her whole.
She hates the winter. She wonders why she lives on the East Coast but as much as she hates the winter she loves the seasons and the themes of change they represent. Death and rebirth. Destruction and creation.
The cold was like a darkness of the soul. It wouldn't last long but it would last long enough. Long enough for her to ponder and wonder. About life. About death. About everything in between.
Yes, it was cold. But soon this too would pass.
She had been cold and lonely. Two of the things she hated most in the world. The kinds of things that wool sweaters and hot cocoa couldn't quite chase away. No matter how hard she tried. The cold was deep inside, unreachable. Hard to explain. Hard to shake off but there it was, threatening to once again swallow her whole.
She hates the winter. She wonders why she lives on the East Coast but as much as she hates the winter she loves the seasons and the themes of change they represent. Death and rebirth. Destruction and creation.
The cold was like a darkness of the soul. It wouldn't last long but it would last long enough. Long enough for her to ponder and wonder. About life. About death. About everything in between.
Yes, it was cold. But soon this too would pass.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Ron
The phone rang but she was too busy to answer so she let the machine pick up.
"Hey, it's me. Why aren't you picking up? Was wondering if you wanted to do lunch. Twelve o'clock. Sid's. Call me." Just as she lunged from across the desk to answer the phone he had already hung up. That didn't stop her from picking up the phone. "Hello? Hello? Booth you still there?"
"Hey! I knew you were in there monitoring your calls." He hadn't yet hung to both their surprise. "Yes, Booth, lunch at Sid's sounds fine. See you then." He smiles from ear to ear, "See you there!"
She had two full hours of work before their lunch date. Well, not exactly a date, just their getting together for lunch and conversation. There hadn't been much of that lately. Especially since she began dating Ron. She missed the hanging out with Booth after work. They had become such great friends over the years and she didn't want that to change. Well, she did but she was afraid. They both were so they denied their feelings over the years instead focusing on work and friendship. He'd become distant since she began dating Ron probably feeling that they spent too much time together outside of work as it was and she should spend her free time with her new love.
He sat at the bar drinking a Coke when she came in. He didn't notice her arrival. He was too engrossed in studying his Coke glass. She paused for a moment to take in his form. It was obvious to her that something was bothering him but she could not quite place her hand on it. She approached him at the bar and he hugged her and gestured for her to have a seat. She was not surprised by his hug but was a little taken aback. They usually only hug during extremely trying situations not usually when greeting one another but she figured he was delighted to have lunch with her.
"Thanks for coming out to meet me for lunch. I was so happy you agreed. I've missed having a meal with you. Outside of work we don't see each other much. Well, not since..."
"Ron." She completes his sentence. "Diet Coke, please," she says to the bartender before he had a chance to ask her what she would like to drink.
"Yes, Ron. How are things with you two?" he inquired, hoping she was going to tell him that things weren't going fine. He never liked Ron anyway. He never likes any of her boyfriends. They don't deserve her. None of them are good enough for her. No one will ever be good enough for her.
The bartender returned with her Diet Coke and asked if they're ready to order. They both ordered a burger - she a veggie burger while he ordered one loaded with mushroom and cheese.
"Things are going well. We've been together for two months."
"68 days." He responded not aware he just said that out loud.
"Wow, I'm impressed, you've been counting?"
"Um, no, not really, I just..." He could not complete his thought nor could he think of a snappy comeback because yes, he had been counting. He has counted how many lunch and dinner opportunities they've missed because she's been busy with Ron. He's counted the times he hasn't stopped by her place with Pizza or Thai food after a long work day. He'd been all business at work not wanting to talk about personal things. Largely because he really didn't want to hear about Ron.
"God, this is so stupid." Again, he did not realize what he said out loud. Then he decided to go for broke.
"Look, I miss you. I miss our friendship. I miss hanging out with you and talking about everything and nothing. I've been so lonely since you've been seeing what's-his-face and don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy and I know he makes you happy but I didn't realize how miserable I'd be watching from the side lines wishing I was him with you in that way and in every way that matters..."
She sat in shock but quickly recovered as she tried to catch her breath.
"Booth, I had no idea. Why didn't you say anything? And he doesn't make me all that happy. I don't even like Ron all that much. You make me happy. I've been missing you too. I only dated him because you said we couldn't cross that line so I figured I should move on with my life and I resented you for creating that line that I've so badly wanted to cross but haven't out of respect. God damn it, Booth, kiss me!"
And kiss her he did. When they both came out for air everyone in the restaurant began to clap their hands. Sid came out to find out what all the commotion was about and uttered, "About damn time."
"What about Ron," asked Booth.
"Ron who?"
They both laughed and dug into their burgers soon as they arrived but not before raising their Coke and Diet Coke glasses for a toast. "To the start of a...," he began. "Beautiful friendship," she finished.
"Hey, it's me. Why aren't you picking up? Was wondering if you wanted to do lunch. Twelve o'clock. Sid's. Call me." Just as she lunged from across the desk to answer the phone he had already hung up. That didn't stop her from picking up the phone. "Hello? Hello? Booth you still there?"
"Hey! I knew you were in there monitoring your calls." He hadn't yet hung to both their surprise. "Yes, Booth, lunch at Sid's sounds fine. See you then." He smiles from ear to ear, "See you there!"
She had two full hours of work before their lunch date. Well, not exactly a date, just their getting together for lunch and conversation. There hadn't been much of that lately. Especially since she began dating Ron. She missed the hanging out with Booth after work. They had become such great friends over the years and she didn't want that to change. Well, she did but she was afraid. They both were so they denied their feelings over the years instead focusing on work and friendship. He'd become distant since she began dating Ron probably feeling that they spent too much time together outside of work as it was and she should spend her free time with her new love.
He sat at the bar drinking a Coke when she came in. He didn't notice her arrival. He was too engrossed in studying his Coke glass. She paused for a moment to take in his form. It was obvious to her that something was bothering him but she could not quite place her hand on it. She approached him at the bar and he hugged her and gestured for her to have a seat. She was not surprised by his hug but was a little taken aback. They usually only hug during extremely trying situations not usually when greeting one another but she figured he was delighted to have lunch with her.
"Thanks for coming out to meet me for lunch. I was so happy you agreed. I've missed having a meal with you. Outside of work we don't see each other much. Well, not since..."
"Ron." She completes his sentence. "Diet Coke, please," she says to the bartender before he had a chance to ask her what she would like to drink.
"Yes, Ron. How are things with you two?" he inquired, hoping she was going to tell him that things weren't going fine. He never liked Ron anyway. He never likes any of her boyfriends. They don't deserve her. None of them are good enough for her. No one will ever be good enough for her.
The bartender returned with her Diet Coke and asked if they're ready to order. They both ordered a burger - she a veggie burger while he ordered one loaded with mushroom and cheese.
"Things are going well. We've been together for two months."
"68 days." He responded not aware he just said that out loud.
"Wow, I'm impressed, you've been counting?"
"Um, no, not really, I just..." He could not complete his thought nor could he think of a snappy comeback because yes, he had been counting. He has counted how many lunch and dinner opportunities they've missed because she's been busy with Ron. He's counted the times he hasn't stopped by her place with Pizza or Thai food after a long work day. He'd been all business at work not wanting to talk about personal things. Largely because he really didn't want to hear about Ron.
"God, this is so stupid." Again, he did not realize what he said out loud. Then he decided to go for broke.
"Look, I miss you. I miss our friendship. I miss hanging out with you and talking about everything and nothing. I've been so lonely since you've been seeing what's-his-face and don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy and I know he makes you happy but I didn't realize how miserable I'd be watching from the side lines wishing I was him with you in that way and in every way that matters..."
She sat in shock but quickly recovered as she tried to catch her breath.
"Booth, I had no idea. Why didn't you say anything? And he doesn't make me all that happy. I don't even like Ron all that much. You make me happy. I've been missing you too. I only dated him because you said we couldn't cross that line so I figured I should move on with my life and I resented you for creating that line that I've so badly wanted to cross but haven't out of respect. God damn it, Booth, kiss me!"
And kiss her he did. When they both came out for air everyone in the restaurant began to clap their hands. Sid came out to find out what all the commotion was about and uttered, "About damn time."
"What about Ron," asked Booth.
"Ron who?"
They both laughed and dug into their burgers soon as they arrived but not before raising their Coke and Diet Coke glasses for a toast. "To the start of a...," he began. "Beautiful friendship," she finished.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Annoy
Stupid bastard. The thought pops into her head when she finds herself in his company. Undoubtedly he is the stupidest man she's ever met. He's got to be especially after all the stunts he pulls. It's a wonder he's still alive, breathing and able to annoy everyone. Because in addition to being a stupid bastard, he's the most annoying man she's ever met. She can't help but wonder what makes him tick though. She often wonders what's brewing below the surface. Is he really smart but plays dumb to attract attention? What if he's sensitive and not as macho as he appears? She wonders about the real reason he's an annoying, stupid bastard. Was his father an annoying stupid bastard too? Are we the sum total parts of our often screwed up upbringing? She still doesn't know. She's not sure she'll ever know or that she really wants to know.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Grateful
She walks up to him, flowers in hand before she stops and wipes a tear from her eye. "Now you listen to me, you ungrateful selfish son of a bitch. I opened up my heart to you only to have it ripped into pieces. I never asked you for anything in return. Except of course the one thing you could not give me. I love you so much it hurts. I never felt so alive yet so dead at the same time. Yet despite the ups and the downs I wouldn't trade the experience of loving you for anything in the world. Even after ... everything. For that, I am grateful."
She lays the flowers down on his gravestone and runs her hands across his name. She begins to quietly weep. He was taken from her too soon. She wanted to spend eternity with him. He only gave her five years. She gently rubs her hand over her stomach, grateful of the life growing inside her. The one remaining part of him that she longs to bring into this world so that she can see his smile again. And for that she is grateful.
She lays the flowers down on his gravestone and runs her hands across his name. She begins to quietly weep. He was taken from her too soon. She wanted to spend eternity with him. He only gave her five years. She gently rubs her hand over her stomach, grateful of the life growing inside her. The one remaining part of him that she longs to bring into this world so that she can see his smile again. And for that she is grateful.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Conversations
Part I
She is stunned by his beauty. It is magnificent. Beyond words. When she approaches him she wants to tear up and cry. She longs for the tender, rough arms that once held her and kept her safe. No one in the world could ever compare to his magnificence. The void left by his loss felt so deep inside, a chasm never made whole. The bond unbreakable even in death. A child stuck in an adult body wanting nothing more than to connect to her father, her hero.
He's much younger than she remembers and as handsome as the photographs she has seen. She's apprehensive when she approaches him, unsure of her steps. Unsure that he'll accept the adult child, the adult woman that she has now become. She is not at all shocked that he scoops her into his arms, his grip gentle but affirming. It is then that she feels all the love in the world, her heart bursting with joy. Finally she feels whole. She is finally home.
He takes her by the hand and they sit by a beautiful garden filled with birds, butterflies and animals of all kinds buzzing by. She is overwhelmed by emotion that she can barely speak. He breaks the silence with a joke. She bursts out in laughter. Her father, the kidder.
He tells her that he's proud of her. He lifts her chin when he senses her disbelief in his words. She tells him that she feels like she's let him down. "You could never let me down." She tells him that she wishes he was there all those years, she was lost without him. "I am always and will always be with you," he replies. He points to her heart. "You have my heart." He hands her a gift. A plain yet beautiful gold locket. He clasps it around her neck and tells her to wear it as a reminder of two things; that she has his heart and to always remember that she has a heart of gold.
"It's time for you to go now, darling. We'll talk again soon." She wakes up in ordinary time and for the first time in a long time, begins to feel whole.
She is stunned by his beauty. It is magnificent. Beyond words. When she approaches him she wants to tear up and cry. She longs for the tender, rough arms that once held her and kept her safe. No one in the world could ever compare to his magnificence. The void left by his loss felt so deep inside, a chasm never made whole. The bond unbreakable even in death. A child stuck in an adult body wanting nothing more than to connect to her father, her hero.
He's much younger than she remembers and as handsome as the photographs she has seen. She's apprehensive when she approaches him, unsure of her steps. Unsure that he'll accept the adult child, the adult woman that she has now become. She is not at all shocked that he scoops her into his arms, his grip gentle but affirming. It is then that she feels all the love in the world, her heart bursting with joy. Finally she feels whole. She is finally home.
He takes her by the hand and they sit by a beautiful garden filled with birds, butterflies and animals of all kinds buzzing by. She is overwhelmed by emotion that she can barely speak. He breaks the silence with a joke. She bursts out in laughter. Her father, the kidder.
He tells her that he's proud of her. He lifts her chin when he senses her disbelief in his words. She tells him that she feels like she's let him down. "You could never let me down." She tells him that she wishes he was there all those years, she was lost without him. "I am always and will always be with you," he replies. He points to her heart. "You have my heart." He hands her a gift. A plain yet beautiful gold locket. He clasps it around her neck and tells her to wear it as a reminder of two things; that she has his heart and to always remember that she has a heart of gold.
"It's time for you to go now, darling. We'll talk again soon." She wakes up in ordinary time and for the first time in a long time, begins to feel whole.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Never
She turned and looked him in the eyes. "I don't think you really want me to stay so I better leave." There was no accusation in her voice, just resignation.
He paused and drew a deep breath, "I don't know what you have against her but..." he sighed, looked at her, unsure of what to say.
"But what?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter now." She didn't press him. Instead she just stared at him intensely.
"Can I ask you something?" He didn't move and she took that as acquiescence. "Why do you trust her?"
He looked at her and thought about her question. He looked at the floor. "Because she loved me."
She swallowed and blinked back tears, half wondering why she had less self-control that she used to. A year ago she would never have cried in front of him. Unless there was a good reason. This former flame of his didn't constitute a good reason. The bitch wasn't worth it, she thought.
She realized he was waiting for some kind of reply.
"Loved or loves?" she whispered.
He shook his head. "Loved but I think she still loves me."
She nodded. "She doesn't love you. She never did." She turned and pulled open the door of her car. "Otherwise she wouldn't have left you."
To her surprise his voice was calm, curious even.
"How do you know?" She started her car, ready to be able to get away as soon as what she'd said came out of her mouth.
"I'd have never left you," she said, loud enough to be certain that he had heard her. Then she closed the car door and drove away.
He paused and drew a deep breath, "I don't know what you have against her but..." he sighed, looked at her, unsure of what to say.
"But what?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter now." She didn't press him. Instead she just stared at him intensely.
"Can I ask you something?" He didn't move and she took that as acquiescence. "Why do you trust her?"
He looked at her and thought about her question. He looked at the floor. "Because she loved me."
She swallowed and blinked back tears, half wondering why she had less self-control that she used to. A year ago she would never have cried in front of him. Unless there was a good reason. This former flame of his didn't constitute a good reason. The bitch wasn't worth it, she thought.
She realized he was waiting for some kind of reply.
"Loved or loves?" she whispered.
He shook his head. "Loved but I think she still loves me."
She nodded. "She doesn't love you. She never did." She turned and pulled open the door of her car. "Otherwise she wouldn't have left you."
To her surprise his voice was calm, curious even.
"How do you know?" She started her car, ready to be able to get away as soon as what she'd said came out of her mouth.
"I'd have never left you," she said, loud enough to be certain that he had heard her. Then she closed the car door and drove away.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Ass
She slammed the door behind her. Hard enough for them to both feel the room shake. She was serious. And she wanted him to know. "God damn it, Muller! I'm getting sick and tired of saving your sorry ass!" She stood by her non-desk, hands at her hips and sighed rather loudly.
He scoffed at her words, hurt, but pretended otherwise. "Gee, Sully, I thought after six years working together you liked saving my sorry ass."
"Muller, you could have told me, you know." She sat. Finally. She Sighed again.
"Are you mad that I didn't tell you or that you had to save my ass after I didn't tell you Sully?" He asked.
"Muller, you're such a bonehead. What's the difference?"
"What could I have told you Sully? That I was going on another of my hair-brained missions. You would have stopped me. Now we are closer to the truth than ever before. That has to mean something, Sully." He fiddled with a pencil he found on his desk and threw it at the ceiling as he awaited her response.
"Muller, we are so lucky Skipper doesn't know about this or our asses would be outta here faster than you can shake a pencil at." She looked up at the ceiling and then back at him when the door slammed open and hit the file cabinet and the stuck pencil that Muller threw fell on his head.
"Ouch. I thought it stuck," snickered Muller.
"Muller! Sully!" replied A.D. Skipper, "What the hell did you two get yourselves into now? I just got off a lengthy phone conversation with the Department of Defense about you two poking around their SeaHorse facility out in Oregon. What the hell were you two thinking," he demanded.
Muller looked at Sully then at the floor and then at Skipper. "Sir... it's all my fault. I went in because I had received a good tip about..."
Skipper cut him off, "I don't give a rat's ass about your tips, Muller. If you're not actively working on a case, then there's no reason for you to go fishing dead ends." His face was red, more so than usual.
Sully spoke and Muller was shocked by her words. "Well, Sir, actually Muller's tip on this one was quite good. We were able to ascertain the proximity of the contaminant, however, we were unable to bring back any evidence because..." She was cut off.
"Because they were able to destroy it before you could, yada, yada, yada. Always the same story with you two. I want a full report about this by the end of the day."
"That's an hour from now, Sir", responded Sully.
"Exactly." Skipper turned and slammed the door.
"Huh. That went well. So, um, Sully, what's the deal with your defending me just now. I thought you'd chew me out."
"Well, Muller, someone's got to save your sorry ass."
"Sully, I think I love you."
She rolled her eyes, "Oh brother."
He scoffed at her words, hurt, but pretended otherwise. "Gee, Sully, I thought after six years working together you liked saving my sorry ass."
"Muller, you could have told me, you know." She sat. Finally. She Sighed again.
"Are you mad that I didn't tell you or that you had to save my ass after I didn't tell you Sully?" He asked.
"Muller, you're such a bonehead. What's the difference?"
"What could I have told you Sully? That I was going on another of my hair-brained missions. You would have stopped me. Now we are closer to the truth than ever before. That has to mean something, Sully." He fiddled with a pencil he found on his desk and threw it at the ceiling as he awaited her response.
"Muller, we are so lucky Skipper doesn't know about this or our asses would be outta here faster than you can shake a pencil at." She looked up at the ceiling and then back at him when the door slammed open and hit the file cabinet and the stuck pencil that Muller threw fell on his head.
"Ouch. I thought it stuck," snickered Muller.
"Muller! Sully!" replied A.D. Skipper, "What the hell did you two get yourselves into now? I just got off a lengthy phone conversation with the Department of Defense about you two poking around their SeaHorse facility out in Oregon. What the hell were you two thinking," he demanded.
Muller looked at Sully then at the floor and then at Skipper. "Sir... it's all my fault. I went in because I had received a good tip about..."
Skipper cut him off, "I don't give a rat's ass about your tips, Muller. If you're not actively working on a case, then there's no reason for you to go fishing dead ends." His face was red, more so than usual.
Sully spoke and Muller was shocked by her words. "Well, Sir, actually Muller's tip on this one was quite good. We were able to ascertain the proximity of the contaminant, however, we were unable to bring back any evidence because..." She was cut off.
"Because they were able to destroy it before you could, yada, yada, yada. Always the same story with you two. I want a full report about this by the end of the day."
"That's an hour from now, Sir", responded Sully.
"Exactly." Skipper turned and slammed the door.
"Huh. That went well. So, um, Sully, what's the deal with your defending me just now. I thought you'd chew me out."
"Well, Muller, someone's got to save your sorry ass."
"Sully, I think I love you."
She rolled her eyes, "Oh brother."
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Save
He is shocked to see her. It's late and she shows up unannounced. He's happy she's come. He had heard that she was let out of the hospital two weeks prior and he wondered if he'd ever see her again. He was always happy to see her. Nothing in the world could ever change that.
"Come in, please, have a seat," he says and offers her the couch. He takes a seat across from her on an old wing back chair that he found at a consignment shop.
She sits and looks at him. She could very well be looking through him. Her expression is dark and distant. She's a million miles away. She'd normally be insulting him by now but instead she sits there completely lifeless. He wonders how she mustered the strength to even drive over and why she was even there in the first place. Especially since he had let her down.
"Why didn't you come to see me?" she asks. Her expression somber yet focused.
He looks at her then at the floor then at her again. "I did. Lots of times. Then ... I heard you had woken up and I didn't think you wanted to see me. Didn't think it would do you any good. I didn't know what to say to you when ..." he trails off, unable to finish. He gets up and walks around behind the chair as if to create a barrier between them. "You've made it clear to me that you hate my guts but I did make you a promise and the fact that I failed to keep that promise will haunt me all my days. The fact that because of my stupidity, you nearly died and ended up in a coma, I just ... couldn't."
She looks at him then she looks away. "I don't hate you. I never hated you."
He smiles and feels relief at her words. Once enemies, they now fight on the same side. Though their battles have been bitter over the years, he never expected to fall in love with her. He walks over and kneels down beside where she sits. He grabs her hand and caresses it softly and looks deeply into her eyes. "But I want you to know something. I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but, after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways. Every night I save you."
She gets up and walks over to the window. His apartment is dark save for the glow of the streetlight that shines dimly inside, just enough for him to make out her silhouette. He can't recall a time that she ever appeared more beautiful.
"You did save me, you know. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive and I can't fault you for that. At least that's something. You know?"
He looks at her and finds the courage to walk over to where she stands by the window. Together they look out into the dark night. He looks at her and he struggles to find the right words. Then he realizes that no words need to be spoken. That this moment is perfect just as it is. He tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear and smiles as a tear falls from his eye and he realizes that she is the one who saved him.
"Come in, please, have a seat," he says and offers her the couch. He takes a seat across from her on an old wing back chair that he found at a consignment shop.
She sits and looks at him. She could very well be looking through him. Her expression is dark and distant. She's a million miles away. She'd normally be insulting him by now but instead she sits there completely lifeless. He wonders how she mustered the strength to even drive over and why she was even there in the first place. Especially since he had let her down.
"Why didn't you come to see me?" she asks. Her expression somber yet focused.
He looks at her then at the floor then at her again. "I did. Lots of times. Then ... I heard you had woken up and I didn't think you wanted to see me. Didn't think it would do you any good. I didn't know what to say to you when ..." he trails off, unable to finish. He gets up and walks around behind the chair as if to create a barrier between them. "You've made it clear to me that you hate my guts but I did make you a promise and the fact that I failed to keep that promise will haunt me all my days. The fact that because of my stupidity, you nearly died and ended up in a coma, I just ... couldn't."
She looks at him then she looks away. "I don't hate you. I never hated you."
He smiles and feels relief at her words. Once enemies, they now fight on the same side. Though their battles have been bitter over the years, he never expected to fall in love with her. He walks over and kneels down beside where she sits. He grabs her hand and caresses it softly and looks deeply into her eyes. "But I want you to know something. I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but, after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways. Every night I save you."
She gets up and walks over to the window. His apartment is dark save for the glow of the streetlight that shines dimly inside, just enough for him to make out her silhouette. He can't recall a time that she ever appeared more beautiful.
"You did save me, you know. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive and I can't fault you for that. At least that's something. You know?"
He looks at her and finds the courage to walk over to where she stands by the window. Together they look out into the dark night. He looks at her and he struggles to find the right words. Then he realizes that no words need to be spoken. That this moment is perfect just as it is. He tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear and smiles as a tear falls from his eye and he realizes that she is the one who saved him.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Fight
Her: "I have Cancer. I'm dying."
Him: "What? No. No you're not."
Her: "Yes. Yes I am."
Him: "That what the doctor said?"
Her: "Well, no. He said I have Cancer."
Him: "But that doesn't mean you're going to die. There's treatment available."
Her: "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be doing that."
Him: "Okay, good. Then there's hope."
Her: "But most people who get Cancer ... they die."
Him: "No. No. That's not true. Not for everyone. Not for you."
Her: "I'm not afraid to die you know."
Him: "Well, that's good, but I think you need to focus on life. On getting better."
Her: "My life, it's so crazy... I can't remember the last time I ever felt ... alive, you know?"
Him: "Yeah, I know the feeling, I do...but we all gotta get through, there's always something worth fighting for."
Her: "Oh yeah? Like what? Give me one good thing."
Him: "One good thing? Wow. Just one? Well, I could name dozens of good things. Dozens of good reasons to trudge through the dark in hopes of finding the light."
Her: "I'm not sure I have it in me. The fight. To fight this. To fight anything..."
Him: "You have to find the strength. It's deep inside you."
Her: "I don't think there's anything left..."
Him: "I need you to fight!"
Her: "Why? Why do you need me to fight? Give me one reason."
Him: "Because. Because I need you. Because I can't imagine my life without you."
Her: "That's two reasons."
Him: "And here's another..."
Fade to black
Him: "What? No. No you're not."
Her: "Yes. Yes I am."
Him: "That what the doctor said?"
Her: "Well, no. He said I have Cancer."
Him: "But that doesn't mean you're going to die. There's treatment available."
Her: "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be doing that."
Him: "Okay, good. Then there's hope."
Her: "But most people who get Cancer ... they die."
Him: "No. No. That's not true. Not for everyone. Not for you."
Her: "I'm not afraid to die you know."
Him: "Well, that's good, but I think you need to focus on life. On getting better."
Her: "My life, it's so crazy... I can't remember the last time I ever felt ... alive, you know?"
Him: "Yeah, I know the feeling, I do...but we all gotta get through, there's always something worth fighting for."
Her: "Oh yeah? Like what? Give me one good thing."
Him: "One good thing? Wow. Just one? Well, I could name dozens of good things. Dozens of good reasons to trudge through the dark in hopes of finding the light."
Her: "I'm not sure I have it in me. The fight. To fight this. To fight anything..."
Him: "You have to find the strength. It's deep inside you."
Her: "I don't think there's anything left..."
Him: "I need you to fight!"
Her: "Why? Why do you need me to fight? Give me one reason."
Him: "Because. Because I need you. Because I can't imagine my life without you."
Her: "That's two reasons."
Him: "And here's another..."
Fade to black
Friday, August 15, 2008
Possessive
Her front door clicked shut. She turned to face him as he tossed his jacket on her sofa, where it landed with a swish of fabric. “I am not some helpless damsel in distress in constant need of saving. You of all people should know better by now.”
“That guy touched your ass. What was I supposed to do?”
“Exactly. Mine. As in my ass.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not yours.”
“Right. So I was supposed to just stand there and smile like an idiot while some asshole groped my girl--."
"Ex." She quickly corrected him.
"Well, yeah, as of a three months ago Sunday. Not that I'm counting or anything."
“I can take care of myself. You were like a dog marking its territory; I am not your territory, buster.” She stepped toward him, chinned raised. “I do not belong to you. Never did. Which is why we broke up, remember. You were always Mr. Possessive."
“Never in a bad way though.” His jaw tightened and then relaxed as he blinked back at her. “I'm sorry. I just thought...”
Without hesitation, she cut him off. "That's the problem, you don't think. I could have handled the situation without your help. Maybe us being friends isn't such a good idea after all."
He sighed, grabbed his jacket from the sofa and made his way back to the door. "I'm sorry. We'll look at the paperwork tomorrow. I'll head home. Goodnight."
He opened the door, took one last look at her and gently closed the door behind him saying barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry."
She replied not hearing him but knowing that it was somehow implied, "I'm sorry too."
“That guy touched your ass. What was I supposed to do?”
“Exactly. Mine. As in my ass.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not yours.”
“Right. So I was supposed to just stand there and smile like an idiot while some asshole groped my girl--."
"Ex." She quickly corrected him.
"Well, yeah, as of a three months ago Sunday. Not that I'm counting or anything."
“I can take care of myself. You were like a dog marking its territory; I am not your territory, buster.” She stepped toward him, chinned raised. “I do not belong to you. Never did. Which is why we broke up, remember. You were always Mr. Possessive."
“Never in a bad way though.” His jaw tightened and then relaxed as he blinked back at her. “I'm sorry. I just thought...”
Without hesitation, she cut him off. "That's the problem, you don't think. I could have handled the situation without your help. Maybe us being friends isn't such a good idea after all."
He sighed, grabbed his jacket from the sofa and made his way back to the door. "I'm sorry. We'll look at the paperwork tomorrow. I'll head home. Goodnight."
He opened the door, took one last look at her and gently closed the door behind him saying barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry."
She replied not hearing him but knowing that it was somehow implied, "I'm sorry too."
Fresh
How do you end a three-year relationship that isn't going anywhere? That's the big question and it keeps him up at night. They were perfect for each other. So he thought. That's his problem - he's always bloody thinking. Too much thinking. What's a bloke to do?
He breaks up with her. It comes as a surprise - no, a shock, to her. It's out of left-field. Things were going great. So she thought. That's her problem. She doesn't think nearly as much as he does. She asks why and he says, "I feel empty inside." She wonders what the hell that's supposed to mean. She can't imagine why.
He settles into his new flat on the outskirts of London. He's back home. Nothing to come back to but he decides it's better this way. Leave everything he knew back in the states and return home to start over again.
"Blimey sodding hell," he thinks as he pours himself a scotch on the rocks. It's the only thing that'll keep his mind free of the brunette he left behind. He doesn't know how to start over. He only knows that he must.
"Not the man I used to be," he says out loud to no one in particular. "A woman can do that to a man if he lets her." He looks back and wonders what changed. She asked too much of him - no, demanded. She demanded he be a person that he wasn't and he decided he couldn't - wouldn't - live that way. "Gotta fill this bloody hole inside." He doesn't know with what but he knows he's gotta find a way.
Tomorrow is a new day, he thinks. It's a way to start fresh. At least. 3500 miles fresh.
He breaks up with her. It comes as a surprise - no, a shock, to her. It's out of left-field. Things were going great. So she thought. That's her problem. She doesn't think nearly as much as he does. She asks why and he says, "I feel empty inside." She wonders what the hell that's supposed to mean. She can't imagine why.
He settles into his new flat on the outskirts of London. He's back home. Nothing to come back to but he decides it's better this way. Leave everything he knew back in the states and return home to start over again.
"Blimey sodding hell," he thinks as he pours himself a scotch on the rocks. It's the only thing that'll keep his mind free of the brunette he left behind. He doesn't know how to start over. He only knows that he must.
"Not the man I used to be," he says out loud to no one in particular. "A woman can do that to a man if he lets her." He looks back and wonders what changed. She asked too much of him - no, demanded. She demanded he be a person that he wasn't and he decided he couldn't - wouldn't - live that way. "Gotta fill this bloody hole inside." He doesn't know with what but he knows he's gotta find a way.
Tomorrow is a new day, he thinks. It's a way to start fresh. At least. 3500 miles fresh.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Complications
"I’m sorry," said the doctor. Those two words tightened the vice in her stomach. "Your father died on the operating table."
She suddenly couldn't breathe. Too hard to breathe. “What? No.” She shook her head, aghast, hair whipping around her face. “But he was stable.”
"There were surgical complications.” The doctor said.
"I want to see him." The words came out in a whisper. “Now,” she said, her voice a bit stronger.
"Of course."
She is led into the cold, dank room where the body of her dead father lay with nothing more than a sheet covering him. She stood there for twenty minutes not saying a word. The only sound in the room was of muffled tears and sniffles.
"I love you Dad. I'm sorry I never got to tell you when you were alive. I didn't know how." She kisses his cold forehead and walks back down the lonely, dark hallway.
She suddenly couldn't breathe. Too hard to breathe. “What? No.” She shook her head, aghast, hair whipping around her face. “But he was stable.”
"There were surgical complications.” The doctor said.
"I want to see him." The words came out in a whisper. “Now,” she said, her voice a bit stronger.
"Of course."
She is led into the cold, dank room where the body of her dead father lay with nothing more than a sheet covering him. She stood there for twenty minutes not saying a word. The only sound in the room was of muffled tears and sniffles.
"I love you Dad. I'm sorry I never got to tell you when you were alive. I didn't know how." She kisses his cold forehead and walks back down the lonely, dark hallway.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Alive
"You goddamn son of a bitch. How dare you. I thought you were dead!" She throws a book across the room, narrowly missing the vase on the table.
"Would you rather I be dead?" He says with a slight grin on his face but he sees that she's not falling for it. Not this time. "Look, I'm sorry. You were supposed to know that I wasn't really dead. I was only made to look dead so they would catch the perp. I have no control over what was said or not said about my not being dead. You have to know that." He walks over to her and tucks a loose strand of hair over her ear. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that it hurt you."
He motions to leave. She stops him. "Wait!" she yells before approaching him. He think she's going to slap him again. Just like she did when she first found out he was alive. Bracing himself, instead she hugs him. A rare gesture of love and longing between two more-than friends. "I'm just glad you're alive."
"Would you rather I be dead?" He says with a slight grin on his face but he sees that she's not falling for it. Not this time. "Look, I'm sorry. You were supposed to know that I wasn't really dead. I was only made to look dead so they would catch the perp. I have no control over what was said or not said about my not being dead. You have to know that." He walks over to her and tucks a loose strand of hair over her ear. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that it hurt you."
He motions to leave. She stops him. "Wait!" she yells before approaching him. He think she's going to slap him again. Just like she did when she first found out he was alive. Bracing himself, instead she hugs him. A rare gesture of love and longing between two more-than friends. "I'm just glad you're alive."
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Happy
She sipped her coffee, eyes closed as she savored the fragrant brew of Hazelnut Creme. Ordinarily she wasn't a fan of flavored coffee but today she felt like having one.
“Marcy.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Johnny.” She looked up to see his familiar smile. “When did you get back?”
“Last night.”
Honoring their history, she slid from the booth. They hugged; when his head tilted, she turned so his lips found her cheek.
He pulled back, brown eyes edged with disappointment.
“You look well,” she said, observing his bronzed skin.
”You don’t. Are you happy?”
Thinking of another pair of brown eyes, considering what she’d gained and lost, she struggled for precision of her words. “No. But I’m happy I stayed.”
“Marcy.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Johnny.” She looked up to see his familiar smile. “When did you get back?”
“Last night.”
Honoring their history, she slid from the booth. They hugged; when his head tilted, she turned so his lips found her cheek.
He pulled back, brown eyes edged with disappointment.
“You look well,” she said, observing his bronzed skin.
”You don’t. Are you happy?”
Thinking of another pair of brown eyes, considering what she’d gained and lost, she struggled for precision of her words. “No. But I’m happy I stayed.”
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Grief
Grief should be ugly. It should be out of this world, earth shattering ugly. It should pull all the beauty out of people and leave them withered and ugly and deflated. That’s what it does to people. It makes them old and bitter. It makes them brittle and cold and unreachable. Drawn and hollow. Small and faded. Yeah, that about sums it up. That's the bitch that grief is.
Yet somehow it made him beautiful. It softened his hard lines and made dead eyes alive with pain. Grief made him shine, and it made her want to soak it up like the heat from a raging bonfire, made her want to stand too close and get burned. It's when you dare to stand close enough to the flame that you start to feel your mortality, just enough to tip toe the line back to the real grief that is cold hard reality.
Yet somehow it made him beautiful. It softened his hard lines and made dead eyes alive with pain. Grief made him shine, and it made her want to soak it up like the heat from a raging bonfire, made her want to stand too close and get burned. It's when you dare to stand close enough to the flame that you start to feel your mortality, just enough to tip toe the line back to the real grief that is cold hard reality.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Heat
With temperatures in the mid-90s, Los Angles had morphed into hell. Not that he minded much. He loved the heat. She on the other hand hated it and she turned awfully bitchy when the weather reached a certain temperature level. "What the fuck is up with this heat wave?" She blasted. "And why won't the department issue us another vehicle, damn AC is busted, we can't live like this. Rat bastards."
"Relax. I can think of more interesting ways to cool off later." He winked at his partner.
"Keep dreaming."
"You have no idea how often I do." He replied.
"Relax. I can think of more interesting ways to cool off later." He winked at his partner.
"Keep dreaming."
"You have no idea how often I do." He replied.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Talk
They don't talk in the car. She has her window down and the cool night air blows her blond hair back. She briefly feels a chill. He sits in the driver's seat, his fingers tapping out the drum beat to a rock song on the radio without even thinking about it. He doesn't need to. He knows every beat. She sighs and rests her head against the seat, she feels his eyes on her but she doesn't answer his unspoken questions and tries not to question him back.
"We need to talk," he finally says."No. No we don't," she bites back.
She's afraid of what she might say to him if he asks her the questions. The same questions she's dreading to be asked. She's afraid she might cry or scream or begin to finally heal. She's not sure she's quite ready for that. Yet.
The evening darkness fades away and the horizon is burning a brilliant blue. She rolls the window up just as the rays of the sun begin to emerge over the horizon. She hasn't slept in four days and she doesn't figure why she should start now, she sighs again, leans back and closes her eyes, letting the pounding music wash over her.
"Eventually we need to talk about it." He musters, barely above a whisper.
"No. No we don't."
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Forget
He sits at the edge of the bar coddling his Vodka Tonic. He thinks of her and sighs, finishes his drink and orders another. She's all he can think about. He let her down. Again. He feels awful but what could he do? He had to tell her. He had to tell her that her husband was having an affair. He knew it would hurt her, knew that she would not believe him at first but she had a right to know. They have been best friends since first grade and she had a right to know. He always vowed to protect her, to watch over her, make sure no one ever hurt her and he let her down. He introduced her to the bastard who cheated on her and now she's heart-broken. So there he sits at a bar drinking himself crazy about it when he should be with her, comforting her, telling her that he loves her. That he always has. Telling her it'll be all right now. Then he thinks he should be at home with his wife and kids but he doesn't want that either. He doesn't want to be reminded of the mistakes he's made in his life. The regrets and choices made. He wants to forget. He wants to sit there in a lonely bar, drink his Vodka Tonic and forget how much it hurts.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Real
He's sitting at the bar when she walks in and sits beside him. He notices her and smiles.
“She's dating. Again.” She says it quietly, almost too quietly, afraid to meet his gaze.
He raises his beer and takes a sip. Puts it down and sighs. “So?”
She swivels to face him. “And It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it bother me?” he replies, almost too quickly.
He isn’t sure if it’s the fact that he's on his third beer, the exhaustion brought on by his work week or the look on her face when he claims, “these guys, Sam, they’re not real.”
She immediately grins. “David.”
He tries for innocence, when he meets her dark brown eyes again. “What?”
She smirks. “You know, one day… one of them will be real.”
He smiles; nods, with conviction. “Yes. He will.”
She studies him carefully, as he finishes his beer, slides from his stool, grabs his jacket and bends close.
"Someday."
“She's dating. Again.” She says it quietly, almost too quietly, afraid to meet his gaze.
He raises his beer and takes a sip. Puts it down and sighs. “So?”
She swivels to face him. “And It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it bother me?” he replies, almost too quickly.
He isn’t sure if it’s the fact that he's on his third beer, the exhaustion brought on by his work week or the look on her face when he claims, “these guys, Sam, they’re not real.”
She immediately grins. “David.”
He tries for innocence, when he meets her dark brown eyes again. “What?”
She smirks. “You know, one day… one of them will be real.”
He smiles; nods, with conviction. “Yes. He will.”
She studies him carefully, as he finishes his beer, slides from his stool, grabs his jacket and bends close.
"Someday."
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Forty
She sits on the couch in the living room of their one-hundred year-old house reading a book and half-listening to the news on TV when he walks in. She looks up at him, acknowledging his presence, but doesn't say anything.
He stands in the middle of the living room looking at her. A look of disgust on his face. "I hate you." She looks up him, half amused, half surprised. She thinks he must be drunk again.
"I want you to know that I hate you. That I've hated you for the forty years we've been married. I've also been cheating on you for the past forty years." He turns around and walks out.
His words burn inside her. She can't breathe. Suddenly she feels dizzy and faint. She thinks she dozed off and woke up in a nightmare. Their forty year marriage hasn't exactly been bliss but she didn't expect this.
After the tears no longer come she realizes that the signs were always there. She finds courage and divorces him. While she can't take back the forty years she lost she manages to reclaim the rest of her life.
He stands in the middle of the living room looking at her. A look of disgust on his face. "I hate you." She looks up him, half amused, half surprised. She thinks he must be drunk again.
"I want you to know that I hate you. That I've hated you for the forty years we've been married. I've also been cheating on you for the past forty years." He turns around and walks out.
His words burn inside her. She can't breathe. Suddenly she feels dizzy and faint. She thinks she dozed off and woke up in a nightmare. Their forty year marriage hasn't exactly been bliss but she didn't expect this.
After the tears no longer come she realizes that the signs were always there. She finds courage and divorces him. While she can't take back the forty years she lost she manages to reclaim the rest of her life.
Alone
It was good to be alone. Finally. And she found, to her surprise, that she was good at it, too—the hours of solitude in the car driving or the hours spent reading a book at home. Peace and quiet. Yeah, that's what she longed for all those years. She didn't like drama and she didn't want it any more. Just quiet. Being alone. This is what she needed to finally complete herself. Get back to basics, she thought. Get back the essence of herself she'd lost all that time ago. She had finally embraced the shadow aspects of herself. Too many years spent in bitter darkness made her whole. Ironically. Now she could see the light emerging from within. And it was beautiful. Everything she'd ever dreamed of. The dark night always loomed but she knew she'd come through it because before long, it would be morning again and she'd be free. She was finally alone but never lonely.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Zippo
She wanders down Main Street into a second hand store. To her shock she finds an old silver Zippo lighter in a cabinet. She picks it up and it looks just like the lighter he used to use. She buys it and stops at the corner package store and picks up the brand of cigarettes he used to smoke even though she doesn't smoke. She walks home and into her room. She removes the plastic from the package and removes a cigarette. She lightly holds one of the cigarettes between her lips, lighting it with the Zippo and laying it in an old ashtray beside the bed. She closes her eyes and pretends he is close as she breathes in the scent of the smoke. These days it is her only reminder of him.
She doesn't wipe away the tears that roll down her face. He's gone having sacrificed his life for the cause. She wishes she had told him she loved him. Sooner.
Now she only lights candles with the old Zippo. It's not much but it's enough. She wishes things were different. She wishes he was there just holding her close.
She doesn't wipe away the tears that roll down her face. He's gone having sacrificed his life for the cause. She wishes she had told him she loved him. Sooner.
Now she only lights candles with the old Zippo. It's not much but it's enough. She wishes things were different. She wishes he was there just holding her close.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Feelings
He's her partner and she won't let anything get in the way of that. Her best friend teases her that she fancies him but she blows it off as nonsense. He's also her best friend. They've grown close over the years. They work long hours solving crimes together. They are good at what they do, a great team, and nothing is going to interfere with that. Not a silly thing called feelings. He's all heart and she's all logic. He's the yang to her yin. They meet several times a week for dinner at the local Thai place after work. They spend more time talking about each other's lives than they spend eating. She listens to him talk about the son he loves so much. They will spend years building their friendship. It will grow like a delicate, precious flower. Neither one ever crossing the line. They will spend years being blind to the growing feelings and the attraction between them. Until the day he gets shot and killed protecting her in the line of duty and she loses him. It is then that the realization of loss hits her cold.
Remark
"What an exasperating man!" She glares at the screen, then takes a deep breath.
He is always making a mockery of her choices, her lifestyle, her dates. If only she would glare next time he poked fun at Mark. She'd also stalk off and slam the door behind her. Yeah, that would show him.
It'd only been an off-handed remark. She was sure he really didn't mean anything by it. He was just being protective of her. That had to be it. Her best friend tells her that he's just jealous but she doesn't believe that. Sometimes she's not sure what to believe. She doesn't believe in his job; she believes in him. Weren't they clear on that? Maybe not.
She turns off the computer and sighs again. She waits on bated breath for the next off-handed remark and wonders how she'll counter it.
He is always making a mockery of her choices, her lifestyle, her dates. If only she would glare next time he poked fun at Mark. She'd also stalk off and slam the door behind her. Yeah, that would show him.
It'd only been an off-handed remark. She was sure he really didn't mean anything by it. He was just being protective of her. That had to be it. Her best friend tells her that he's just jealous but she doesn't believe that. Sometimes she's not sure what to believe. She doesn't believe in his job; she believes in him. Weren't they clear on that? Maybe not.
She turns off the computer and sighs again. She waits on bated breath for the next off-handed remark and wonders how she'll counter it.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Can't
"I can't love you." She says it like she means it. "I'm sorry." Her delivery cold and calculated. She turns around and walks away and leaves him broken.
His pain is great. He's been telling her that he loves her for over a year. She doesn't believe him. She doesn't believe that he's changed and with good reason. He's done a lot of bad things. He tells her that she's the one good thing in his life. He's changed because of her. He was dead before her. She thinks he's beneath her. What would her friends say if they knew? She keeps him a secret and he becomes her willing pawn in that secret. He tells her they have something special. She tells him that it isn't love and that he's merely convenient. It hurts him to hear that. He lets her use him. Because he loves her and he'll take what he can get.
He watches her walk away as tears roll down his face. He's broken. He keeps looking til she's gone and he no longer catches a glimpse of her tall, slender figure and her strawberry blond hair. Tears in her eyes give her away as she disappears into the night.
His pain is great. He's been telling her that he loves her for over a year. She doesn't believe him. She doesn't believe that he's changed and with good reason. He's done a lot of bad things. He tells her that she's the one good thing in his life. He's changed because of her. He was dead before her. She thinks he's beneath her. What would her friends say if they knew? She keeps him a secret and he becomes her willing pawn in that secret. He tells her they have something special. She tells him that it isn't love and that he's merely convenient. It hurts him to hear that. He lets her use him. Because he loves her and he'll take what he can get.
He watches her walk away as tears roll down his face. He's broken. He keeps looking til she's gone and he no longer catches a glimpse of her tall, slender figure and her strawberry blond hair. Tears in her eyes give her away as she disappears into the night.
Numb
The graffiti on the huge cement block in front of what used to be the old Police Station reads, "You are all numb." I laugh as I drive along the one-way leading to the other side of the Library parking lot. I sit in the car for a few minutes before going inside to pick up some books on reserve. "Am I numb?" I chuckle as I walk inside, wondering about the answer to the graffiti revelation.
Yes. We are. All numb.
It strikes me. Hard. And I hate to be struck hard. Actually that's not true. I live for such revelations and for statements and questions that make me think. Questions that challenge everything I ever thought I believed. What's life without a bit of challenging and questioning? What's life without a bit of rebellion against the boring, status quo of our daily lives? I spend days wondering. Weeks actually. I wake up in the middle of the night pondering such a question, 'am I/are we all numb?'
I wonder who else worries about such things. Probably no one. Then I realize the answer. No one worries because they are too numb to question their own reality. Too numb to wonder long and hard about such an earth-shattering statement. Because the reality of such a statement is harsh and it's real and it's sad. We are all numb and there are varying degrees to such numbness. It starts easy and slow then it grows bigger until it consumes us. It consumes us that we begin to not notice it's there until we are posed with such a statement. We are. All numb. How we got there is another story.
Yes. We are. All numb.
It strikes me. Hard. And I hate to be struck hard. Actually that's not true. I live for such revelations and for statements and questions that make me think. Questions that challenge everything I ever thought I believed. What's life without a bit of challenging and questioning? What's life without a bit of rebellion against the boring, status quo of our daily lives? I spend days wondering. Weeks actually. I wake up in the middle of the night pondering such a question, 'am I/are we all numb?'
I wonder who else worries about such things. Probably no one. Then I realize the answer. No one worries because they are too numb to question their own reality. Too numb to wonder long and hard about such an earth-shattering statement. Because the reality of such a statement is harsh and it's real and it's sad. We are all numb and there are varying degrees to such numbness. It starts easy and slow then it grows bigger until it consumes us. It consumes us that we begin to not notice it's there until we are posed with such a statement. We are. All numb. How we got there is another story.
Change
He can't do this anymore. He knows it. Deep down in his soul he knows. He knows what he must do. He thinks about what his life will be like in five years and he thinks things will be better. They have to be. He knows better. This is the future of his past and nothing has changed. He doesn't want history to repeat itself. Again. He's already dying a little bit every day. He knows he must reclaim his lost sense of self. His purpose is waiting to be found. He's seeking salvation. He's seeking something tangible to hang onto before he loses his sense of self. His heart is hungry for truth and his soul is thirsty for something he can't quite name yet. It's out there. It must be found. He's got to move on. He's got to get past this. He's got to stop riding in circles and take a leap of faith and walk the hero's journey. He has to walk it alone. He's scared to death. This time he won't let that stop him.
He does it. It shocks everyone that knows him. Especially himself. It's the right thing to do. He knows that deep in his soul. He's getting closer to the man he's meant to be. He's now in charge of his future and the future is now brighter than it's ever been.
He does it. It shocks everyone that knows him. Especially himself. It's the right thing to do. He knows that deep in his soul. He's getting closer to the man he's meant to be. He's now in charge of his future and the future is now brighter than it's ever been.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Destroyer
Wreckage and ruin abound yet its sweet destruction releases what is holding us back. We are kept from growing old and stale. Out of the ruins can great creation occur. Rebuilding becomes the new order. Renewed energy and change promise a new day. The destroyer is a good force but only if used wisely. The quest is change, total annihilation of the status quo, and a return to balance, finding the life drive that will sustain us. Living on the cusp of life and death, one learns to become surprisingly humble. The world needs more humility. The world needs more destruction. We are called to destroy so that we can create.
The castle built of immense logic has proven flawed. The walls built securely over the years have tumbled down. The bridges collapse and turn to ash. There is no escape. The journey is now everywhere like the bright burning sun emerging from the darkness, it cannot be outrun. Let it burn. You become the sacrifice. Your old face shattered. Only now can transformation begin anew. Oh the sweet, sweet smell of destruction.
"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you."
From: Gospel of Thomas #70 (Gnostic Gospels)
The castle built of immense logic has proven flawed. The walls built securely over the years have tumbled down. The bridges collapse and turn to ash. There is no escape. The journey is now everywhere like the bright burning sun emerging from the darkness, it cannot be outrun. Let it burn. You become the sacrifice. Your old face shattered. Only now can transformation begin anew. Oh the sweet, sweet smell of destruction.
"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you."
From: Gospel of Thomas #70 (Gnostic Gospels)
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Desire
It's disgusting, actually. They're all over each other. Pubic displays of affection. Gross. Take it inside for goodness sake. It's pretty clear he wants her. And she wants him right back. Right here, right now. Gosh. Don't they know they aren't the only people in this park. Come on. There are children playing about. The nerve of some people. He goes back to pretending to read the paper. Pretending to be interested in the latest world events. But he's not. He hates the paper. Curses the bloody thing. It's depressing and full of fluff but he picks it up because he can't stand to look at those two. Yet the disgusting display of affection has him captivated. Perhaps he's jealous. Perhaps he's wanting to be in such a disgusting display of affection. No. No. Who is he kidding? Maybe he'd just like someone to love and to be loved by. Just not in such a grotesque, lustful way. Or perhaps he would. Sometimes you want everything and nothing at the same time. He leaves. Disgusted. Back to his hectic, crazy, lonely life.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Illusion
The whole world is an illusion.
Everything is a fraud.
A drama played out to impress.
A perfectly orchestrated play.
Nothing you see is real.
Your life is an illusion.
Your powerful mind playing tricks.
Nobody's home.
You need to wake up.
Nothing you see is real.
Question your reality.
You are asleep behind the wheel.
The puppet master works diligently behind the scenes.
Your reality is not your own.
Nothing you see is real.
Everyone is dreaming and they can't wake up.
The mind is too small, too limited to see.
Because you don't want to.
You are all numb.
Nothing you see is real.
You like your illusions.
They protect your made-up world.
Wake up!
It will take you many lifetimes to awaken.
Nothing you see is real.
The illusion is consuming you.
You're not really here.
Your life isn't real.
Everything is made up.
Nothing you see is real.
Everything is a smoke screen.
Everyone is running away from something.
You have forgotten.
You must know your truth.
Nothing you see is real.
The mountains and lakes aren't real.
The grass isn't green.
The sky is not blue.
Life is a charade.
Nothing you see is real.
You are delusional.
Your problems don't exist.
Your pain is made-up.
Wake up!
Nothing you see is real.
Take off the mask.
Get out of your cocoon.
You're not really here.
Wake up!
Nothing you see is real.
Stop the noise.
Close your eyes and go inside.
All your answers lie there.
The truth will free you.
Nothing you see is real.
Everything is a fraud.
A drama played out to impress.
A perfectly orchestrated play.
Nothing you see is real.
Your life is an illusion.
Your powerful mind playing tricks.
Nobody's home.
You need to wake up.
Nothing you see is real.
Question your reality.
You are asleep behind the wheel.
The puppet master works diligently behind the scenes.
Your reality is not your own.
Nothing you see is real.
Everyone is dreaming and they can't wake up.
The mind is too small, too limited to see.
Because you don't want to.
You are all numb.
Nothing you see is real.
You like your illusions.
They protect your made-up world.
Wake up!
It will take you many lifetimes to awaken.
Nothing you see is real.
The illusion is consuming you.
You're not really here.
Your life isn't real.
Everything is made up.
Nothing you see is real.
Everything is a smoke screen.
Everyone is running away from something.
You have forgotten.
You must know your truth.
Nothing you see is real.
The mountains and lakes aren't real.
The grass isn't green.
The sky is not blue.
Life is a charade.
Nothing you see is real.
You are delusional.
Your problems don't exist.
Your pain is made-up.
Wake up!
Nothing you see is real.
Take off the mask.
Get out of your cocoon.
You're not really here.
Wake up!
Nothing you see is real.
Stop the noise.
Close your eyes and go inside.
All your answers lie there.
The truth will free you.
Nothing you see is real.
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