Thursday, February 15, 2007

and suddenly a wizard appeared...

today is my husband's 40th birthday.
it's strange to think that i met him when he was just five months shy of being 24.

god.
was there a time when i was only 19 years old?


when i woke up this morning (after two hours sleep), i felt like i had a bunch of shit to say. it seems like all night i thought of things i wanted to write about - friends, issues, concerns, the west coast, school and the huge test i have tonight, ailments among us, the future....

then it dawned on me.
17 weeks.
four more days and it will be four months, according to the calendar.

four months is such a short time, even though it seems like an eternity.
i knew him for 15 years before we shared a very significant 6 months.
will the tears ever stop?
all i want to do is talk to him - to smell him - just touch him...
i'm forgetting his voice and his scent. i'm forgetting everything already. the memories are already starting to fade - even when they are sparked by something unexpected.
the pictures are these two dimensional replicas of something that was and will never be again.
the dreams have fucked me up inside - is there something i'm not catching in them? is wade trying to help me not forget by coming to me in such strange dreams?

the first dream - all the significance and the events* made it seem tailor made for us. and even though he was there, he wasn't really there.
but he was....
but he wasn't.
everything that was wade was there with me in that dream.

but the second dream was so different.
it had a sense of being more finite.
more like the end.

is it the end?
is this why i'm starting to forget?
or did i do too many drugs in the 60s and it's all going to start to fail now?

in a weird way, my heart feels dead.

there's an emptiness inside her
and she'd do anything to fill it in
and though it's red blood bleeding from her now
it's more like cold blue ice in her heart
she feels like kicking out all the windows
and setting fire to this life
she could change everything about her
using colors bold and bright
but all the colors mix together
to grey
and it breaks her heart


*we were stalking (for lack of a better word) our favorite band and ended up with the singer in a one-on-one situation. i talked to the singer about the band never dedicating a show to someone but he said he would do it for wade, for me....
we laughed and carried on like old friends - the three of us.
more direct interaction with the singer and with wade (i was figuring out he wasn't really there by now), more laughs and even some tears. i kept trying to touch wade and couldn't -
he reached out and touched my face and then i woke up..
in a panic.

holes in my shoes -
at least there's a hole in my head
to fill me with booze..
i'd like to have my glass filled
so i can forget
what a fuck up i am.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

It couldn't have been the drugs in the 60's; you weren't alive then.

He's speaking to you. He's not gone yet. He's all around you; you just can't see him.

Thursday, February 15, 2007 at 10:39:00 PM EST  

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