nights are the hardest. they pull me apart. i turn into just pieces of me. they don’t quite fit back together without you.
i feel you from here. i feel you in my thoughts and dreams. i feel you in the quiet and the steady and the gentleness of my loneliness.
and then i feel you fast and strong, in the whirlwind of my days and the noisy, rustling wind that stirs outside my window and the ticking in the ceiling that has no cause or source. i know you think and dream and feel me too. but life is just so much sweeter when i’m with you.
so come back to me and bring my heart, bring yours too. come back to me darling, come home soon. no more airport goodbyes, no more last nights or mornings or meals or drives. just this next time to last us forever. yeah, that’d be just fine.
a new month.
i’ve been so long, here with you,
not nearly long enough.
and i think about the time we spent
where it all went
what we did and how we stayed so still
in the quiet moments.
the moments our hearts spoke only what we meant.
we couldn’t buy this kind of love. we couldn’t even dream it. yet here we are, bathing in river mist and mountain peaks and rainforests shrouding us in the greenest most deliberate decorated mossiness.
you put your toes in any water and feel the cold or surprising warmth. and it makes me smile when you jump in
seeing you come out all wet
pricking water droplets
sending them rolling off your skin.
is it the rain or the river?
it doesn’t seem to change, no matter how much i push or pull time just scurries right away from all this is. no matter how much we want it to stop still and rest for a bit. no matter how much it suffocates and liberates and drowns and frees all the outrageous realities we’re slowly, beautifully sinking in between.
we bury our toes and open our hearts and let it all unfold in a beautiful picture of all that has passed
of all that’s yet to come.
life happens so fast.
we’re spending time sucking dry the very last days of summer, of this moment, of our time together before goodbye.
meadowbrook pond. seattle, washington.
for all you understand about life, and living, you need to understand death.
my dad said it to me, as i sat with a lump the size of a hailstone the size of a golfball clogging my throat, a torrent of tears surging down my face as i watched my dog so still and sad. no more but his eyes, his wagging tail and steady, shallow breath. there’s no sustenance. there’s no life. and sometimes breath is just not enough. we delay, we wait, and in the end, what exactly are we trying to save?
we move forward and beat on. none of this is permanent. it’s all so fleeting, this life, you and i. all of us, just fighting against time. just waiting. we fill the in between with memories and people and pets, religion, experiences, photos, emotion, love. so it can mean something. so we have a reason. so we can feel something. so we believe in it.
so we do.
i still think about telling you how much i despise our guarded and sorry, vanilla goodbye.
all because i didn’t want you seeing me cry.
[as i took that first step from your side, a piece of me stayed in your pockets, on your lips, in the space between your fingers and mine.]
my darling, my darling,
those tears, they came, but they weren’t so bad. they were for the letting go of something that now belongs to you –
it’s not mine anymore, but maybe, instead, forever yours.
so be gentle, my love, it’s made of our memories, of the prettiest parts of all of this.
my love, be gentle and whisper,
it’s softness that’ll be
the undoing of me
of the guarding and the worrying,
of the everything.
it was the hardest thing to do, pretending i was okay when i said goodbye to you.
and for a second the cars stopped driving and the man stopped sweeping and the rain stopped falling and i stopped tap tap tapping on my keyboard writing frantically about you.
and in that second, the stillness took me over as i daydreamed of something so far from right here and now. as i awoke back to reality, back to cars and sweeping and rain and typing and thinking about you [and if] and when the hell i should be saying that bittersweet goodbye to this life
to these days of everything
to what it’s so clearly beginning to mean.
it appears that all i’m really trying to do is stop time.
and so this was sunset on my final day in hawaii. the past three months have been a whirlwind of adventure. i have met the most incredible people, seen the most wonderful sights… fallen in love with love again. these magical islands have changed my life once more. thank you to all my loves, this would mean nothing without you.
i leave hawaii tonight. i leave to newness. to travel, more adventures, old friends, new experiences, old memories flooding back.
there’s a nostalgia about this moment. a time where i would do anything to stay, but give everything to leave, too. the double-edged sword, the bittersweetness tickling my taste buds.
the people i leave behind, who they made me, what they taught me. why i am now who i am.
i’ll miss you. all of you.
i lay concrete in my arteries.
there is a point where i feel it’s not worth it anymore. the heartache and the pain. so, maybe, i push people away. maybe when i leave a place. but wait, i know i do it. so what about all these maybes?
maybe that pushing is waiting. maybe my world needs both less and more. maybe the pushing is receiving of other things worth coming.
i wrote a letter i’ll never send. a letter that’s starting to feel like nothing, again. because this moment never lasts. this moment this morning this marvellousness this momentum.
because what goes up…