Samira

i'm about to go to bed, and i'm still wearing my shoes. my 34 years have finally caught up with me & i'm really scared, because every last part of me wants to run away so fast right now. but i'm not giving up. i know i have to learn this lesson.

i must learn to trust that not every relationship ends in abandonment.

today i am grateful for:

• recognizing that it is important to articulate my gratitude.
• seeing Lisa absolutely shine on opening night in an incredible play.
• going for margaritas with Luscious and David after the play.
• having a 3 day weekend after a relentless work week but, much more importantly: Martin Luther King
• 2 gigs coming up next week.
• a heartfelt email from Todd.
• seeing Todd tomorrow.
• my friendship with Kelly.
• my beautiful kitten.
• purple lipstick.
• finally replacing one of my most treasured records, which i lost in 2003 at a party in Austin playing a 12 hour 2×4 set (Thanks, Addictech!)

Immodest creature, you do not want
a woman who will accept your faults,
you want one who pretends
that you are faultless–one who will
caress the hand that strikes her
and kiss the lips that lie to her.

George Sand, Intimate Journal, 1834

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

–e. e. cummings

i try to imagine my life without you
and i can’t

i try to imagine my life with you
and i can’t

this week has had an overtone of bitter-sweet, and undertow of memories screaming both tremendous joy as well as sorrow. it wasn’t until last night that it finally hit me, Paul:
Happy Birthday.

6 of your birthdays. 6 of mine.

we even met at your birthday party:
no wonder these past few days have been so wrought with emotion.

realizing that this is the first time in 6 years
that we are not spending our birthdays together
missing that part of the relationship
having a home with someone
thinking of all the ways in which we spent those days together
4th of july fireworks from the couch
playing records in the sun
going on road trips
and other stuff
like how broke we were
and how we’d just have each other
and as much as that was the bad
it was also the good
and i miss that
i miss having my friend, my partner
my touch stone
somebody to come home to
thinking about taking Little Bit to the vet
and it made me think about you and Little Bit
& how much you love her
& how you probably would have taken her today
because that’s the kind of relationship you had with her.

this is not a story of regret, for i am too proud of you.
and i am proud of me, too.

and today, on your 38th birthday, Paul,
i want to thank you for our journey together,
for everything that we’ve endured & felt & tried & forsaken,
for everything that we’ve taken away & learned,
forgotten & remembered,
become enraged for, beaten ourselves up over, forgiven.

thank you for our bicycle ride,
for that rubik’s cube, and that one good record, too.

i am so incredibly proud of you.

i love you.

thank you for driving the whole way up & the whole way down. for letting me sleep, even when i don’t want you to. for keeping me newcastled & watered. for holding me, loving me, making love to me. for sharing your spoken and unspoken words. for cracking me open one gesture at the time. you’re incredible.

I’ve been thinking too much about you See the sunset with no sleep at all Constantly thinking about you And I can’t get through this at all

I’ve been thinking too much about you I’ve been staring at the floor I’ve listened to all the tunes I love but made me feel quite blue

I’ve been thinking too much about you See the sunrise still no sleep at all Constantly thinking about you And my eyelids won’t close at all

–Trentemoller, Moan

I’ve been thinking too much about you I’ve been climbing up the walls I’ve taken all the drugs I love but made me feel quite blue without you (last 2 stanzas courtesy of dosborne)

been needing to cry. been needing to find the right poetry. been needing to hear the right female vocals.

i keep thinking if i just sit still, some answer will come to me. there must be a reason for it all. but my heart keeps hurting, keeps pounding out this dull aching pain, there are times i’d rather break it, so it would stop already.