It was a painful lesson.  It was when I realized that my strength of conviction was my weakness as well.  It was wrong of me to put her through what I did that night.  I peeled myself down to my most fragile place, and asked a friend if she would give me a reason to live.  What I found was that she had learned how to not care.  The world had suceeded in giving her insensitivity lessons.  I have learned how to care so I might recognize someone who cares about me.  What I have found is that I have pushed the edge of something no one looks at, and found a gift I can give others, when it is all I wish to receive from the world.

          Once I was home, I knew she went back to her man, had her breakfast, and signed off another of the many friends she used to have.  I went down to the park, and sat by the pond, waiting for some moment of resurrection that would not come for almost three years, and many more ledges later.  I wanted, so much, to cry, but I could not.  I eventually just fell asleep, and woke to the sound of ducks and geese swimming in the pond.  The sound gave me the idea of going to Galveston, to lay on the beach and wait for the thoughts to return, and continue to taunt me.

          I ran into her one day, at the music store.  She was buying a guitar case for her fiancé.  My brother and I had lost track of time in the store, as my love of electronic keyboards had to be satisfied if only by playing the one I could not own. We were late for a movie.  I ran into her on the way out, and we spoke for a brief moment.  I apologized for that night, and she stumbled on the words for just a moment before she said:

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

In that moment my heart sank, and the saddest thought in my head was regret.  The regret that I did not need to throw myself through the grinder before asking her if she could spare a moment so that I might cry.  It was too late for this revelation.  For me, it was too late for us.  Love is forever, one sided or not.

          I received her number, and fled.  It was all I could do, less I demand for her heart and soul be mine.  I was still in the middle of my madness at the time, but it seemed more productive to hide it, than demand it be recognized.  I never spoke to her again.  The number was lost, the time passed, and the memory was almost forgotten... until today.  For it is in the wind today.  That scent, that smell, that makes my mind remember, and my heart ache.

          No, it was never lost.  Some memories you live with everyday of your life.  Some things are too sweet to forget, and too painful to hide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Final thought:

Some might ask me if it is dangerous to tell so many secrets, and display them in print for all the world to see.  These moments are mine, and only one other person knows this story as well as I do.  For where ever you are: I remember, and I love you.