"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx
Got less than three minutes to throw a few things down upon the page. A chance to try to put down the words I can’t write or can I.
Maybe I ought to use music and let it speak for me and then agonize over whether the songs tell the tale as I want, hope and wish it to be told.
It is not easy getting older, now is it.
The boy wrote 10,000 letters and the girl read almost all of them.
Sometimes she told him what she thought and sometimes he had to guess.
Sometimes he saw her and caught a look in her eyes that made it clear he could still see what lay beneath the surface.
He always remembered that whatever he could see inside her she could see inside him.
One day he wrote her a letter and said he knew she still loved him and that, of course, he still loved her because the kind of love they had never could die.
It might go through periods of time in which it slumbered a bit and there would be moments where it felt like maybe slumber was too generous a word. Moments where he was sure she wondered about it as he did, but then something would happen.
Always, something would happen and he would remember.
He assumed she remembered too and that she intentionally remained silent.
Perhaps it was because she couldn’t see a way forward or perhaps it was because she would protect her own heart by not allowing entry.
He always figured she avoided spending real time with him for that reason because distance made it easier to maintain the wall and the fiction.
Of course he thought there was always the chance he was wrong, but the actions showed otherwise, at least some of them did.
A long twisty road lay behind and perhaps in front.
Sometimes he thought about just pulling her into his arms and kissing her but he didn’t.
Once she would have melted into him and perhaps she still wanted to or would again, but she wasn’t the only one to protect their heart.
The Shmata Queen told me a short while back about all of the things in our lives that had changed and how it would make certain dreams impossible.
I didn’t respond or argue with it but my best guess is she knows damn well I didn’t accept it.
She might say it is because it’s news/information I don’t like or want to hear but I would debate that point.
I don’t like it but the reason I don’t accept it is because of all that I have seen and experienced which suggests to me that sometimes we don’t know as much about life and what might happen as we think.
Hell, there is no good reason for us to have met and yet we did.
Not only did we meet but we somehow found our way down the spiral path and through the inside out in ways that make it impossible for me to say things are impossible.
Sometimes you look at a woman and say I know you love me and she responds with something that sounds like “what a fool believes.”
What comes down the road or doesn’t come isn’t defined by today or tomorrow or fate. It is a combination of all of these elements and something else.
Weird science it is, and now we walk the path not because we are curious to see what comes of particular and specific relationships but because it is what is required for all of life.
Can’t stay still and can’t stay hidden.
Got to keep walking and see what unfolds as we go.
It ought to be interesting.
The questions float into the inbox with the quiet ease of a calm forest stream.
Most of them are focused upon why I ought to be interested in paying for a product or service that will help traffic to this joint explode but the occasional one touches upon other topics.
“Jack, what happened to your girl? What happened to the one you used to write about? Did you find each other and if so, what was the outcome?”
Sometimes I stare at the page and think about composing a post providing the full story or wonder if I ought to just put some words down in an email and let it go at that.
Should I provide facts and details or just a couple of lines outlining the tale in a way that sort of answers the question.
It is kind of funny to me because she who you refer to is a woman who wants details. She needs specifics and it drives her crazy to give half an answer.
I am good at driving her crazy, always have been.
That doesn’t tell you what our status is or isn’t now does it. But you don’t really need to know one way or another.
She is out there and so am I.
Our lives intersect and connect in multiple places but as to the depth and frequency well that is is something to discuss elsewhere.
Every day I take a moment or two to consider whether I am going to update things here and wonder how I went from posting sixty or seventy times a month to the current snail’s pace.
If there were no boundaries in blogging I could address it all in a couple of paragraphs but there are boundaries and so I cannot give you a complete tale.
All I can say is I am always cognizant of the changes here and elsewhere. It feels like a full moon madness that exists whether the moon is given it is full glory in the night sky or but a quarter.
Old Walt Whitman might be spot on here.
We are all on individual paths and where they lead or do not might be destiny or coincidence.
Hell, it might be a combination of the two.
There is a girl who I would like to sit down and discuss this and a bunch of other things with.
If my druthers and requests were filled it would be on a beach somewhere with no distractions other than the sea.
But for the moment that is an impossibility and one wonders if that moment should be defined and described as minutes or eternity.
This the place where confusion reigns and it is hard to determine if that will continue to be the default answer or if perhaps the clouds will part long enough for rays of sunlight to provide the clarity only they are capable of displaying.
I am tired and worn out by it all, though it is also fair to say I am capable of mustering enough energy to change it all.
But that is probably contingent upon whether there is a real impetus to do so beyond personal desire.
Not that desire doesn’t provide significant motivation because it does. However, it is not enough on its own.
That is what happens when more than one is involved, you can’t walk into a secret world and celebrate by yourself.
It just doesn’t work.
Partnership is required, someone to take your hand and walk with you through the full moon madness.