Image by *brilho-de-conta via Flickr
Last night she embraced another man. Yes, I know continentals do that, but this was a little too enthusiastic on his part, at least.
And so I awoke at 5 am, jealousy gnawing at my insides, unable to fall asleep again. Some things never change.
There’s nothing to it, but a jealous man doesn’t care about that. She thinks I’m a saint and a superhero, but the darkness is lurking. There’s a worm in the centre of the apple.
Last night, in a dream, you kissed me. I was aiming for the cheek, and you turned your head. As always, the torrent of emotion made me wake up. It’s too bad that all these things can only happen in my dreams, Roy Orbison sings.
On the outside, I appear to be making progress. I no longer bitch and whine, “Oh, I have to see you, you must see me, I miss you, come on waaah waaah” and so on.
But inside, the longing for you is as strong as ever it was. And in the night, it overflows.
Image by ___federico___ via Flickr
One day I’m going to wake up and find that it was all a dream. That does seem the most likely explanation.
But will I be panting, sweat-soaked, relieved to escape the nightmare? Or will I shed tears in the darkness, grasping at a dream that can never be recaptured?
Which of those two endings sounds the better?
Image by moominsean via Flickr
I think tonight my heart actually broke. I can’t describe it any other way.
I’ve been telling you all along, full of conviction: we can never be lovers.
Tonight, I now realise for the first time, I truly believed it. Something made me realise it is actually true. And I became aware that I have been paying lip-service to the idea all along. I’ve been entertaining notions of success. Tonight I saw with perfect clarity: it’s not ever going to happen.
I suppose the realisation is analogous to hearing that a loved one has died. I sat here and cried like a baby. I’m about ready to go off again just thinking about typing that admission. I’m feeling washed-out, literally. Sluiced, hosed, laved. Gotta say: it can’t have helped that I was listening to Emmylou Harris at the time.
So that’s it. The dream is over, and not even stubborn naive delusion can bring it back. Now all I have to do is figure out what to do about still being in love with you. I wonder what Emmylou has to say about that.
Every time I have to let you go,
I know there's no God;
Or if there is, he's capricious, and laughs at me.
Dude, I know I did some bad stuff.
But haven't I paid for it by now?
Not quite, not just yet, comes the reply.
Patience, says the voice.
Just one more eternity,
And then you're off the hook.
Have a little faith.
