Saturday, February 28, 2009

comedy of error

another day, another anniversary.
on this date, i was flying. on this day, i was waking.
we cannot let go of anything. we can only let things find their place in us.
i wish i knew where to put these memories. what part of me can contain them? for they bring comfort for a moment before they cut. every memory - an emotion. slicing through me. struggling inside me. a wrestling body within a body. i want peace. i want to feel these struggling limbs within me lie still.

there is nothing reasonable about love. no rationale, no explanation suffices. there is only the waiting. for the rest to come. holding out for a day when i don't care.

i don't know what i regret more. what matters more to me? what holds me in this grip? this playing over and over and over and over... what has paid greater toll...?
the desire? or the uttering of it? or the not getting it?

or perhaps just the discomfort at acknowledging the pride i must let go of. to admit i made myself a fool.

::

fountains are exploding like fireworks in the cold sunshine. children are jumping up and down in excitement. throwing their hands up in what looks for all the world like exhaltation. squealing with delight. unabashed. no thought given to containing their spontaneity, their marvel. their wonder. the jets gush and dance in rainbows.

::

all i wanted was the chance to give love... to get to feel what others feel... to know what it's like... and in response to find the words that would make a home for the heart of another... so they would know... perhaps that is the unbearable thing... to know one cannot make magic... that to make love to the heart of another is only make believe...

or perhaps the unbearable is one's utter folly. the idiocy of the illusion that my feelings could make a difference.

so perhaps it is with shame that i should say, a year ago today i believed in a God of second chances...
i'm starting to wake up to just how ridiculous that was. what foolishness lay in my wishes. the butt of a joke of my own making. i guess i would've expected it'd seem funnier by now. but somehow, it doesn't make me feel like laughing.

LB

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