bombarded and broken

So how do i start? What do i say?...

I read these lil proverbs all the time that tell people to do what they feel is right... to say whats in their heart.

as if its that easy...

there are consequences to those actions and sometimes the result is not what is needed... and it could actually be the opposite.. exactly what I do not need...

even though i fear and anticipate the next time i do see you.. what if, when i do see you... we will realize... well.. what if we dont receive what we think we will... what if?

where will it be, in some crowded market as i turn around because i forgot to grab bread while i was down that isle? maybe the one time i need to go to the other walmart cause this one doesnt have what i need... or will it just be in passing.. you going one way - me going the other... opposite directions on an escalator we cannot stop...

will it be years from now as i step onto the stairs of a movie theater in the heart of chicago... will it be tomorrow at a starbucks?

there have been many times that i was so very very close to saying maybe just one word... maybe many.. however i hold back.. because. well. im stubborn. i want to hold out longer.. then i try to justify my actions by our past. the doors i have opened for you,have been bombarded and broken... and as i tried to board them up... it was as if i was fighting the force of a thousand oceans...

many times i have read the quotes by famous writers.. the passages that make it seem so easy to drop words..not from my lips, but directly from my heart, my fears, my dreams...

why is it so hard? what am i afraid of? well in this case... everything.

i will say this..

-i apologize.

and a more comforting statement.... though i doubt you will ask for it...

and that is my forgiveness...

-i forgive you.

out of sight / out of mind only works for so long...

and though i may be the farthest thing from your daily thoughts.. i cannot deny the fact that you are in mine. and in this i state my inner most emotions that come to life as i type them...

its hard to imagine. everything.

while a small piece of my heart, despite my strength, still resides in memories i wish to forget, i find myself wondering in my subconscious thoughts...living in the past and imagining the future with my negative, my positive, the force that balances the power that i hold in this world...

if i was the dark. you would be...

We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence, and its only end.
-- Benjamin Disraeli

music keeps my heart and mind as close to the pain as possible... which makes me simultaneously stronger and weaker ...becoming both my greatest strength and my most destructive weakness...

so what if?... how?... what would i say?... how would i feel?

its as if a tiny tiny part of the puzzle is missing.. not even a whole piece but more importantly a vital piece of a whole piece and as much as most that read this will never and could never understand.... some of the most powerful things in the world receive disapproval, resentment and on occasion.. downright hatred...

but its not about them.. its not about anyone else... it never was

its about.. the untouchable unexplainable mystery that binds itself to splendor and brilliance...to confusion and clarity...

the gifts given that have no wrapping and sometimes have no sound... no surface to touch but only an idea to believe in... a hope that becomes a dream and a dream that becomes a memory...

memories paint pictures of the past where the negative was dressed up with beautiful colors and bashful curves lightening the appearance so the onlookers can marvel at it's presence..

Never close your lips to those whom you have opened your heart.
-- Charles Dickens

so i dont know the steps taken to miss something... do i have to miss certain things? a certain number of things... or maybe missing is not being able to miss it... maybe i miss missing you.. maybe i miss missing something and this really has nothing to do with you... maybe it has everything to do with you.

The only true gift is a portion of yourself.
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

im tired of playing the games, flexing the stubborn muscles... who can hold out longer...

what was done has left a very dark, very red stain on my very soft, very perfect, white carpet...

and it cannot and will not be forgotten.. forgivess is one thing.. and its amazing how there are those that forget the bad... the hurtful and move on.. then out of the purple.. are filled with excitement and are overcome by a calmness not felt in quite some time...

the kind of calmness i feel as on a cold night i climb into bed, that warmth that fills the body from the inside out.. as that feathery soft quilt is pulled over my chilly body harnessing the heat and sending it straight to my heart.. laying my head on the inviting down pillow that comforts my entire soul, making the world a great place to be... and christmas the best time of year...

the feeling of home.. the feeling of happiness.. of home... the kind of warmth that has soft music playing in my head with the images of the future... of kisses under mistletoe.. of new years parties and nights spent in.. watching movies that not really about the movie but more the quiet ..spent with that person so the element of touch can be enjoyed without tainting it with words...

so back to my "what if" my "how" my "when" and "where" ...

what will i say? what will i do? how will i feel?... if on some passing escalator, in a crowded market or a coffee shop ordering a cafe mocha.. years from now stepping onto the stairs of a theater in downtown chicago... if i look back on this very moment and regret the opportunity placed before me... what if...

i never see you again.
what if..
i never get to tell you these things.

to tell you what my heart screams as i silence it with painful memories fueled by the destructive emotion that plagued my life for an almost insurmountable period of time.

and what am i going to do about it?... well... i dont know yet.

pieces from:

Colin Hayes "I just dont think Ill ever get over... "

"i dont want you thinking im unhappy.
what is closer to the truth?
but if i live til' i was a hundred and two...
i just dont think ill ever get over...

But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over...
If I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over...

thgieeerhteno

-xam

~billy