Silent sorrows

The suitcase I brought with me still sits in the hallway. Forlornly, I might add. It throws whispers my way, desperate murmurs to put it back in its rightful place in the cupboard above the fridge. The fridge is pathetic in its emptiness. In intentional avoidance, I haven't gone to the grocery. Lately, it seems, when I find myself in one, I can think of nothing to buy but wine and beer, especially that wine. The bottle of wine, emptied of its sweet, tangy contents is nestled in a curio so special, it reminds me of the time I tried but desperately failed.

The few and far in between I've tried, I carry them like scars, beautiful sorrows that lightly linger in the daylight, make themselves furiously felt at night. 

Be that as it may

I never had your eloquence for metaphors

Nor your penchant for similes

I spoke in climaxes envious of your restraint

I came on too strong, firm and proud

A little too happy, a little too hopeful

A little too full of maybes and what ifs and could be

But my love

You never really heard me, felt me, saw me

I am a memory, a quotation living in dreams and whiffs of coffee

Be that as it may

I must exist -- if only to dwell in the shadows

If only to be seen once in a drunken moonbeam

What's in a name?

Her kiss. Her touch. Her name. This thing we have. The thing that inexplicably, unexpectedly existed before it needed a name. Name, name, name, name it into a pedestal. Explain it and say it. Name it all, everything. Damn you, name that feeling, that sense, that energy; name you and me and us and what you want, and how you want and what this is and what it will be and what you will be and what we can be and what we will be. Tell me what this is now that it wasn't before. Name the thing that makes it real. Tell me the true story of the origins of life on Earth and name the route that got us from there to here, then to now; us.


From nothing comes something. Names come after. After the longing of unknown cause, the wish never whispered, the thought never shared, the feeling that explodes, the experience that sparkles and blinds, the inventions, the creations, the ache that flares, the thing, that thing, the something that was not here before and now is here, big as the world and wide as the sky; the feeling of her as she steps close. The exquisite feeling of her arms around you. Her lips. Her strength. Her beauty. Her smile that beguiles. Her mind that intrigues. Her voice that enchants. Her words that captivate.


Naming captures. Holds. Forever. Even if what is named changes, evolves, morphs into something else, fades, wanes, disappears, goes extinct or magically reappears. A woman loves a woman. Naming a thing calls it into existence, calls it to attention, heralds its arrival and achievements and failures and its place, its right to exist -- and to be -- in our very human world.

One sweet day

A letter to my future partner. Hey, a girl can't help but dream! :)

~ ~ ~

Palangga,

Wouldn't it be nice to one day walk down the aisle with you? What will you wear, my love? A tux, perhaps? Unbuttoned strategically to drive me crazy? Or maybe a dress? Regardless, you will look absolutely divine. And I will be so proud to have this breathtaking beauty to call mine. I think I will wear one of those vintage lace boudoir gowns in champagne. You know how I love everything vintage. I will let my hair down and walk barefoot towards you as you wait for me by the altar. Maybe a tear or two will fall down my cheek and I will walk ever so slowly, savoring every step to forever with you, my love. 

Or maybe it will be you walking towards me? I don't think I will be able to stand there and wait for you. I will most likely run down the aisle and grab you to make it quick. But then that would ruin the solemnity of the ceremony, wouldn't it. Alright, I will behave, my love. I've waited for a long time, what more a few minutes?

Do you imagine the beach? At sunset? The sand between our toes as we dance the night away with the people we love and who, by the grace of some overwhelming power, accept us wholeheartedly. Or maybe, if we've saved enough, we can jet off to Canada or Las Vegas and make a weekend out of it. A weekend we will never forget, worth reliving until we reach the dusk of old age. It will be filled with lots of laughs, loving anecdotes, music and poetry. 

And wine! Cheers, my love! Are you with me as we get drunk without respite? Let's drink to us and to a lifetime of love, sometimes hate, challenges we will overcome together, a small bout of financial instability, career changes, sickness, movie dates, trips to the bookstore, horror movie dates, arguments on who's going to do the ironing, candlelit dinners with me as the wannabe chef, midnight snacks of ice cream and coffee, cuddles in bed, and more cuddles everyday and night of the week. We will drink to a myriad of other things that make us both so awesome together. 

And as the night draws to a close I will rest my head on your shoulders and bask in the safety you bring. We will sway to the sweetest music and whisper romantic nothings, and exclaim, Can you believe we're married!?! We are, aren't we!?!

Believe it, my sweet. I will go down this path with you, Palangga. I will take your hand and never let go. It will be quite a ride and to hell with those who think otherwise. Count on it, my love.

Forever,

T

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This seems all so moot now. Moot and pathetic. I am so disappointed with myself this godforsaken Monday and re-reading this entry just gave me the chills (of not the good kind). I am entitled to a bad day, aren't I? Well, today it is.  


Updated: 2 April 2012; 7:53 p.m. 


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I feel better now. I guess I just needed to recognize how crappy I was feeling yesterday and go on, moving forward. 


Future partner, I still mean every word. :-)


Updated: 3 April 2012; 10:39 a.m.