Fragments of Fiction

Johnny grabbed a pen and started writing a letter to June in which he said it was just a matter of time.

“You know most days I don’t make bold declarations like this one in which I say it is just a matter of time but today is different. Don’t know why, can’t say, can’t figure it out and won’t bother trying because it is a hunch.

‘Cuz dearest June something in the air has changed and it feels like I can reach out and touch you, figuratively and literally.

Which is to say, Red dress, blue dress–it doesn’t fucking matter. I like them both. 🙂

And I think you’d like to see what I might do about them. Maybe I’ll just smile and say no and maybe it will be like a snowy New Year’s Eve on a staircase.

But most likely it will be different than all that because different is good, meaningful, important and significant.

Not to mention you miss leaning against a familiar man who is just different enough to be intriguing but well known enough to be comfortable.”

He signed his name, folded the paper into thirds, stuck it in an envelope and then life continued.

I never stopped hearing her song or feeling like I was supposed to be the one hearing it.

Never tried to ask if it was for me or if she knew what she was doing because it felt a bit like looking behind the curtain to see if the wizard was only human.

Years apart but never completely separated we lived parallel lives and kept going as if none of it mattered.

Until the day we shared a meal and real conversation about who we were, are and wanted to be.

It changed everything.

My gut said relax and go with it while my head said be cautious you are not Charlie Brown trying to kick the ball Lucy is holding.

The Songs We Hear

I often told the universe to release me or bring us closer together.

“I don’t know if I am talking to myself or if this is being heard by someone or something that matters and has influence. But just in case I am and you/it do, here is my request. Set me free or change the equation.”

Some days I feared being set free and some days I wondered what happens when you get what you asked for.

And then came the day and the change.

We picked up where we left off and tried not to smile too quickly for fear that it would give away our true thoughts.

That didn’t last because eventually we pulled back the curtains and shared a little bit.

Ever since then the ship has been sailing pretty smoothly towards unknown shores. This is in spite of having told the navigator which way to go.

I choose not to spend too much time worrying or wondering what it all means. Better to be in the moment and to enjoy the ride.

It is a finer way to live.

Sometimes you search for a Shmata not knowing you had spent your entire life looking.

It is only after you discover your Shmata that you recognize what you had been missing and begin to wonder if you are crazy.

You make excuses and drag your feet because it couldn’t possibly be what you think it could and by the time you realize what you have things happen and you realize you just witnessed a shooting star.

Except the night sky is no longer lit so brightly and all you have is a trail and memory.

Time passes and you begin to think that maybe you were wrong, maybe you fooled yourself into thinking it was special but in your heart you know better.

Your air has gone and you choke a little bit and wonder why the sun doesn’t shine quite so bright.

 

Are You Alone In The Dark?

It is hard not to feel like you are alone in the dark and to wonder if that feeling is proof of your having fooled yourself.

And just when you are convinced you are indeed alone you find fingers wrapped in yours and for a long while you smile and your heart soars because the warmth is back.

Until it is not and you wonder if it is a cycle or a hiccup.

Maybe it is both and maybe it is neither.

The funny thing is you wander around trying to pretend it is meaningless even though you are convinced you’re still not alone in the dark.

All you need to do is reach and you’ll find those fingers again. Somewhere in the darkness you’ll hear a voice reprimand you for not believing.

And you’ll say you were told not to believe and be told you were always told to ignore the voice.

That will make you crazy because sometimes you follow and sometimes you ignore.

Red dress, blue dress–it doesn’t matter what fucking dress it is.

Wear it and then take it off.

You just know in your gut that you are right.

It is the best thing ever and a curse because even though you are convinced there is that little voice that says wait until the fingers find yours.

Is that really what you are supposed to do?

The boys of your youth would call you a pussy for that and though you never really cared, you sort of do now.

Maybe it is because you hope that you’re supposed to take that risk and you’ll be rewarded for doing so.

But if you are not, if you are wrong, well it is not much fun getting smacked in the mouth now is it.

We were together, I forget the rest- Whitman

That ring of fire burns, burns, burns- that fucking ring of fire.

Close your eyes and find your center and ask yourself what happens when lightning strikes and the impossible and improbable come to be.

It all started with one single moment and it could all start again…or not.