Tuesday, December 17, 2002

Thinking of You

Thinking of you…

I think of you every now or then. Remembering the times we shared and laughed without a care or whim. I remember the softness you so graciously instrumented; like a beautiful orchestra at midnight playing a song we both would remember.

I think of you still from time to time. I remember your solid words of encouragement; the feelings and thoughts that always made me crumb inside. I would lose my fear, lose my intentions of waiting; I would run wildly in thought for a passionate grasp of you’re reality.

I remember how you use to care for me, always asking the right questions; waiting for that once spoken word that brought you enjoyment with a mix of complexity. You seemed fearless of my answers, knowing some deepened understanding. You waited so gently for that last breath to be whispered, like a whisping willow gracing the shadows of a lost world sleeping.

You were my sounding board for life’s little corks. You kept me grounded and surrounded with feelings of love and positive thoughts. You were my best friend, my buddy, the one I could see. You were my soul, my thought, you were my everything.

I think of you every now or then, truthfully it’s more like each moment I’m awake from the deadness I live in. Even when I’m dreaming, I still think of you as it was real, not willing to wake from the dream that has become my surreal.

Sometimes you are in the corner of that dream, mouth shut and quiet. Other times you are with me, hand in hand, face to face, expressing how you truly feel, not holding onto our mistakes. I wake from the dream, not knowing if I’m able to grasp, wondering if it meant something or if it’s going to disappear into the past.

Though I think of you from time to time, I have moved into a clearer state of mind. I see the past as it once stood still, knowing now that your were never real. I think of what could have been, where the fork in the road made its bend. I wonder if I was ready and willing or could it be a path of conciseness that I’m finally quitting.

PkS 2002 ©