Sunday, December 20, 2020

To One of The Boys I Loved Before: Imprinted Smurf

 

You happened like so many of my TATB happen: one look at the very wrong moment at the very worst time, and I imprinted on you. I know it was that day, I'm just not sure it was the stage first before the lobby, but it happened, and I've lugged this baggage around on and off for close on two years now.

Maybe what makes you so un-eraseable, even despite all the times I seemed to have shaken you off my heart, is the knowledge deep down that you're beyond my reach, always have been, now will forever be. I just knew deep down that you never even knew I existed that way. I just never crossed your radar. The thought never even strayed within that universe and your mind would never even be able to fathom it: you with me? Unimaginable.

I liked you first because you looked so much like a sweet cuddly Smurf, sans the blue. You had me with that first glimpse. Then, I thought I didn't much like your social persona, but I think that was probably more about people flocking around you, probably being drawn to you same as I was. But unlike me, retreating, a fish out of the social waters, they swarmed in close and I only saw this picture. Well, whether or not that phase was the real you or just the face some sharks and pressure made you to wear, it all doesn't matter now because I lost yet again, and you've become another One I Loved Before.

Despite the shark infested phase though, you remained sweet and thoughtful and considerate, and I think that's the bit of you I'll always remember, not the social shark or the imprinted Smurf.

The sweetest and most painful part both, is the fact that I'm so full of happiness and contentment for you because I always knew you deserved to be happy, you deserved the best. And if not with me, then with someone who brings all the love and beauty and sunshine and beauty into your life because that is what I want for you. That is why I wanted you.

To One of The Boys I Loved Before: Bittersweet

 

I just have to say this this one time at least: you were my Epic Love Story. Thank you for that. Even though that time was bittersweet, and it was all shades of complicated, I’m truly grateful for it. Looking back over my life now (like I found myself doing in the wee hours of today), I realized that I’m not sad or regretful or (what’s that word I’m looking for?) any of those things. I actually had my fireworks and clouds parting and butterflies and that oh so beautiful feeling in your heart that fills it to bursting. I had Love and I’m so grateful for that. Did it happen how I dreamed it would? No. did it end in happily ever after? No. did it come with lots of tears and heart ache? Hell yes. Did it hurt? You bet. Did it take sacrifices and indeed all of my everything? Yes. Did it break me? Yes, it did. But I wouldn’t give it up to take all those things away. Because I realized only a heart that has loved can break. Only a heart that’s been loved, truly loved, can understand that sweet, sweet ache. And the best part? I know you loved me. You loved me as I was, with all my baggage and flaws and imperfections. You loved me. No one else has ever loved me that way, completely and unconditionally and totally. No one. Not before and not since. Thank you for that. you’ll always have a piece of my heart because you were The One. You were my Epic Love Story.

 

To One of The Boys I Loved Before

 

I know that you're entitled to your choice, same as I am to mine.

My choice that chose you.

I know that you're entitled to your choice.

I just wished you'd chosen me too.

I'm so happy for your happiness though. I guess that makes my choice love.

I guess that makes my choice the hard road.

The road that gives you my blessing.

The road that is content in your happiness.

You deserve to be happy, if not with me, then with someone else.

Someone else who brings all the love and beauty and color and sunshine into your life.

Because that is all I ever wanted for you.

That is why I ever wanted you.

Wherever in the world you are tonight, I hope you’re happy and loved and appreciated.

And I sincerely hope you’re in love: it’s the very best feeling in the world.

To The Girl Who Loved Me Before

 

Ran into you yesterday, or rather, spotted you across the street from me. You were going into the Starbucks on the corner of 7th Ave and 5th. You were with your friend, Chesca I think; I never could remember her name. I have to say that it was a surprise seeing you; it hit me hard and that was an even bigger surprise. It’s been over two years since we last saw and to tell the truth, I never really thought about you that much in that time.

Yeah, you ran across my mind from time to time, you know, when I came across mutual acquaintances or our former co-workers. One or two of them might have even asked after you, and I probably said something generic like that you were probably doing fine, settling in into school and all that. I remember thinking of you the last time I was at the Analog Coffee at the Core. I remembered our conversation while we were waiting in line, something about how you loved the sweater the barrister was wearing because yellow was your favorite color. But apart from those few occasions, I didn’t really think about you, and I didn’t feel too bad about how we parted ways. I mean, it wasn’t anyone’s fault things didn’t work out, and you know, that’s just par for the course, that’s life. We meet one day and part the next, move on to the next phase.

But then I saw you yesterday and it hit me. Hard. It wasn’t because you looked really good since the last time I saw you, which you most definitely did. I don’t know if it was because you had somehow evolved from the sweet and quiet girl I met back then, or if you’ve always exuded that magnetism and I just never noticed it. Maybe it was that Grad school really suited you and you’re thriving, and you were simply projecting that aura of wellbeing and confidence. Maybe it is that you’re happy and content now, and that is the source of the glow you had around you. I’m not sure what it was exactly, but what I do know is that you looked really good.

I crossed the street on a whim, and went into the Starbucks after you and Cheeta? I never really paid much attention to you or your friends back then, so I’m embarrassed to say I have no idea what her name is. I wonder what else about you I must have missed simply because I wasn’t paying attention. Simply because I wasn’t interested, and so I blanked most of everything that had to do with you.

I watched you order a Roiboos latte and then another memory hit me; that was your absolute favorite! On its heels was the little nugget of info that you don’t drink coffee because you love it way too much and could never stop at the first cup. Or the 20th for that matter. I started to smile at the memory of you explaining to me why you settled for sniffing coffee instead of drinking it, when I caught the barista flirting with you. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but I saw the look he gave you, and the way your right hand went to your ear told me that the shy little half-smile was tugging at your lips and that you were blushing. How many times did I see that gesture and was impatient and somewhat irritated by it? I knew it had meant that you had a crush on me and I didn’t have time for silly crushes. I still don’t. Then why was I upset with the barrister for flirting so unabashedly and for looking pleased with his good-looking self when he saw that sweet half-smile?

I asked myself why I was lurking in the entrance to a Starbucks like some psycho stalker, spying on the oblivious girl in the pretty mustard-yellow sweater, whom I wasn’t even remotely interested in. I wondered why I was upset when you spent an inordinate amount of time at that counter, chatting with the barista. I was confused about how I felt when it crossed my mind that you’re not with me, because I never wanted you to be; I told you as much two years ago when you told me you had feelings for me.

I'm wondering if I was mean to you back then, maybe a little curt when it seemed you were getting your wires crossed, misinterpreting my politeness for something more. I hope I at least let you down easy. I hope I wasn't too much of a jerk.

When you and Cheryl left the coffee shop, you passed within touching distance of me. I almost called out your name then, almost stopped you to say hello, catch up with you and see how you're doing. But I didn't. It just didn't feel right.  I guess I felt I'd lost that right.

But it was good to see you looking so well, looking like you were happy and fulfilled. Because I know it's what you deserve. I know now that it's what I want for you.

Friday, September 20, 2019

The Retro Journals: The Far Side of Midnight

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Sometimes I try to look across this space
Sometimes all I see is the nothingness
This vast expanse that says I'm still not good enough, never will be,
That no matter what I do or don't do, I can't ever win (that whether I do or do not, I still lose)
And it's not the long, rocky road ahead that stops me taking the first step
It's the fear of failing, finding myself yet again in this place
Finding me yet again the prodigal, not even worthy of the crumbs off Your table

But then Your grace carries me...

Sometimes I stand here, on the outside looking in and longing
For the warmth and comfort of home
It seems the more I crave, the harder it gets
I try so hard to catch Your attention, strive to get You to love me,
 I cover up my flaws, paint on a face, raise my hands
Deep down, I still think mercy and grace ain't for the likes of me
I cry and I beg and I scream and I rage, turn away and do my own thing, say You couldn't care less
Still just this lost child desperate for the Father's touch, searching for love in all the wrong places


Sometimes I find myself sitting on that thin line again
teetering, free falling into nothing, wondering how it is I'm doing this dance again
Wondering how I'll step away from the line, wondering which side of it I'll find myself on; straight across or right down the middle
Afraid of how long it'll be, a day, a year, a moment before I'm right back here, toeing the line for the millionth time
Because there's that voice telling me it's just a matter of time, be it even a life time...