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Ex Marks the Spot
I could feel him, I could hear his voice. Not the voice of a generic male sound, I remembered HIS voice…the excited hello in a slightly higher pitch the way if curled out of his half smile, much like the cigarette smoke did when he exhaled.
He wasn’t smoking in my dream, no… that was something he used to do when I knew him… well if I even knew him. Well, I’m sure you understand what I mean.
Now, it had been years since I thought of him details blown away like fragments, scattered, unorganized and forgotten, yet familiar.
I think that is what I found most awaking about this dream is how these memories came from the far corners of my mind…places I had shoved aside and prayed to forget. His voice, his smile, even his chest was the same as I remembered it.. If you can have a memory of something forgotten.
At Any rate… last night in my dreams I saw something I hadn’t spoken to in half a decade and it was like he was right there. The dream was inconsequential… but what I found to be off was how I felt afterwards like suddenly he was familiar again. Not loved. Just familiar. There’s a difference.
He Kissed, I Told.
Change is the one thing that can make a secure person cry and a vagabond have joy. It is feared by comfort and pleaded for by the miserable. I am almost certain nothing evokes the wave of change more then the words you think would fix anything… “ I Love you” Isn’t it amazing that we go through our relationships with people and love can be fleeting, earth shattering, lifting and destructive. I wondered about the root of this irony and combated it with idealistic banter that if you love someone then say it, tell them.
In my youth I would preach that you knew it was real if when you said it…your motive was not of a reciprocation of the emotion…it was merely a testament of why your day got brighter every time you saw them.
For a writer it’s easy to whine on about rhetoric and theories…and then as life progresses testing them out becomes inevitable.
To quote Golden Girls.. ( yes I’ m going there ) “Imagine with me if you will…”
You live with him for 3 years best friend, best roommate, the one and only who has seen you crazy at 4 am, drunk at 3, gorgeous and going out and miserable when the fling of the week is over. Supportive, honest and sarcastic the epitome of true love and true friendship. Why it’s taken me all this time to figure out I love him and why am I so afraid of the three most magical words in the universe. I love you.
Not only impossible and improbable by best friend forever love in a subconscious soul mate.
I guess we all have our secrets… mine was that I loved him and as he told me his secret the truth hit hard I let it out in the form of laughter… he was attracted to everything I cannot be: a man.
I could tell you I’m heart broken and devastated.. And I would be telling you the truth… I didn’t know it to be so true until he kissed me at the airport… face full of tears at the thought of leaving him at having to go again in a reality that I didn’t want to live with out him there… I feel so freaking brave when he’s with me, around me…secure, safe and happy.
In blurted out in a drunken stupor… I said it. I love you. And he said he knew. Oh my god. Isn’t that what I said was the test of true love? For you to be able to say that you love them and them to say I know and it’s enough.. No return necessary… but it’s not enough here. It actually infuriated me. How dare he know and put me though having to deal with all of it.
How dare he know and make me meet his lover. How the fuck dare he know, and kiss me. It’s cruel.
But it meant enough for me to cry anyway.