Oh bunny.
All the feels.
I have been thinking about you a lot recently.
You’re just in the air.
In my dreams too.
My God. I really have had a lot of dreams about you recently.
I used to not dream so much about you.
I don’t know why now.
But there it is.
Maybe it’s because I was in Hawaii recently.
I wore the necklace that you gave to me, the little glass heart, the one that you handed to me that day we drove to Sonoma to have a picnic.
The day I gave you cuff links, out in the high grass while we picnicked and made out and I was shy about showing you the tattoo I had gotten for you.
You told me a story about having bought the glass heart with a little fold of yellow ribbon in the glass, from a jewelry vendor somewhere in Maui and how it pulled you to buy it and you didn’t know why you were buying it.
For someone you had not met yet.
I wear that heart a lot.
I wear the bracelet with the infinity sign on it, every day.
Every day.
I’m still in love with you, likely always will be, and that’s ok.
You in the ether, ephemeral and close and then far away.
In my dreams, in my thoughts.
I sometimes still think that I will end up back in your arms, years later, run into you and be once more with you.
Hopeless, die hard, romantic here.
I don’t cry as much over you as I used to and I try to date and I’m not always so upturned over you, I can say I’ve moved on, a little, but I “pray, every day, that you’ll be back in my arms once again.“
That just spun out into the air from my speaker.
It’s from one of the songs on one of your playlists that you made for me.
I haven’t listened to it in a very long time.
But.
I have been thinking about it.
Because.
Analytics.
What does that mean exactly, you ask?
Well.
Lover.
I could be wrong, maybe I am, but I also wonder, could he, is he, “it was not so long ago that you broke my heart, tears on my pillow, pain in my heart, caused by you, if we could start anew, I would take you back and tempt the hand of fate” is he out there reading my blogs?
Also.
Side bar.
Wow.
This playlist seems a little too prescient.
You made this for me for our six month anniversary, I asked you to make me a playlist for slow dancing with you.
I wanted love songs to dance to and these are love songs, but they’re also predicting heart break.
Did you know, even back then, that we would cause each other so much heartbreak?
So, so, so much.
Someday, someway, you’ll realize that you’ve been blind, yes darling, you’re going to need me again, it’s just a matter of time.
Fuck.
You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you, we would bash our hearts out on each other and hurt each other and try again and again, so many times.
GAH.
Maybe I should stop playing this.
That was like a side bar to the side bar.
Back to the analytics.
So, my blog lets me know a few things on the back end of the platform that no one except me can see.
I can’t see who reads my blogs.
But I can see where in the world my readers are coming in from.
I can see how many reads a day I get.
I can see if someone is in the archives.
And.
I can see what particular blogs are being read.
And.
Well.
I’ve been seeing something recently that makes me think a lot about you darling.
And maybe it’s not you.
But someone, once a week, on Thursdays, which are actually Fridays for me I think (WordPress is on a different time zone so I don’t know if it’s actually Thursdays when the blogs are read), reads a bunch of my blogs.
And two of them constantly pop up.
“Love Songs and Nail Salons.”
And.
“Hello, Stranger.”
It feels like you’re out there, quietly waving to me.
You haven’t called me or texted me or emailed me.
You did connect with me briefly, oh so damn briefly back in October, just days before my dissertation defense, and we could have talked, you called after receiving a card from me, but when I had to go into a client session you left a voice mail and that was it, not another call or text.
Despite telling you I could talk, I sent you a text later after my session ended, but you said you were on “East Coast time” and going to bed and you never reached out again.
I got damn angry.
That riled me up for a while.
Then I had my surgery and had to finish my dissertation and then it’s the holidays and my birthday and that’s when I wrote Love Songs and Nail Salons.
You are intertwined with my birthday and you might always be.
I’m not sure how long this person, you or someone else, I like to pretend it’s you, I like to pretend you’re reading this now.
Fantasy.
Hope.
Idiocy.
You pick.
I don’t care if you don’t want me, I’m here right now, I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.
Boy howdy, you put together one hell of playlist darling.
Shoo bop, shoo bop,
Hello stranger, it seems so good to see you back again, how long has it been?
Seems like a mighty long time.
Oh fuck.
Wow.
That pulled some tears up.
Hmmm.
Yeah.
I still have all the feels.
I am grateful to be writing this though.
You’re not going to read it.
Someone will though.
And maybe that’s ok.
When the love is this strong it doesn’t go away, the grief, the pain, the sorrow, time doesn’t heal all the wounds, the arrows of love from Cupid’s bow, my container to hold it all just got bigger.
You know.
What I used to tell you to make the hurt less, um, hurt”y”.
Sometimes God breaks your heart to break it open and make it bigger, all the better to hold more love.
Can what you’re thinking bring happiness, or will it bring misery?
Honey bunny.
You knew.
You knew we were doomed.
You don’t have to tell me pretty baby, you want me to try and forget you, I’ll do the best I can.
I should have listened to this closer.
I think I was just so damn enamored with you at the time. So fucking in love with you.
I remember when I was told, people will tell you all the time who they are and what they can offer, believe them.
Yeah.
“I want to fuck you,” someone told me recently. He’s not available for anything else, and I heard it loud and clear and expect nothing else from him.
Should that come to pass.
Repeat to self.
When someone tells you who they are, believe them.
I wanted so bad to believe that you would get out of your situation.
But you told me all along, you couldn’t, that you wouldn’t.
And here I am, still, wondering, but maybe….
Ah.
Big, deep breath.
I had a revery once, last March, and I can’t even believe I am going to write this, but I am, because that’s what I do.
(“I could never write a blog,” an ex-lover once told me, “you wear your heart on your sleeve, you tell things about your life I never could.”)
While I was in Joshua Tree being all woo woo with a bunch of girls in the desert doing a guided mediation and a sound bath, how much more woo can you get?
But once I stopped having contempt prior to investigation.
Something happened.
I had a vision of the two of us.
I‘m a fool to want you, I’m a fool to want you, to want a love that can’t be true, a love that’s there, for others too. I’m a fool to hold you, such a fool to hold you, to seek a kiss that’s mine a lone, to share a kiss the devil has known. Time and time again, I said I’d leave you. Time and time again. I went away.
I had a vision of us in Hawaii, living together at the end of our lives, on a lanai, or a porch, you had me in your arms, I had long, long, long hair, threaded with gray and I was so frail, and I died in your arms while the moon set over the ocean.
I can’t get along without you.
Oh love.
Maybe that’s all there is to this love, this exquisite pain that lets me know I have loved and lived and still have so much life yet to go.
I don’t know who’s reading those blogs of mine so assiduously for the last stretch of time, but it’s put you in my mind.
If you ever go, darling, I’ll be oh so lonely, I’ll be sad and blue, crying over you, dear only.
By the way.
I had that vision far before I was even thinking about Hawaii or going to Hawaii, and now having been and knowing how much I resonated with the islands and how much you do too, oh Maui baby, I do wonder.
Maybe one day, some day, far away in the future, in another life, in some other dream, I will see you on a beach somewhere and be once more in your arms.
Unforgettable, that is what is what you are…like a song of love that clings to me, ooh, how the thought of you does things to me. Never before has someone been more unforgettable.
Until then, sweet heart.
Be kind to you.
Love yourself.
Take care of yourself.
And I will do the same.
Are you lonesome tonight, do you miss me tonight, are you sorry we drifted apart?
You gave me something no one else ever has and I will never forget it.
Even if I never see you again.
I will always have you in my heart.
Always.
Because.
Love is strange.
Auntiebubba 