She loves me…she loves me not.

I shoulda bought my ticket by now.
Should have that itinerary in hand.
But I don’t.
Why?

Well, there are the reasons you can touch and the reasons you can’t.
The touchable ones are so easy.

I’m freaking busy. I’ve been called up to duty by the company that has led me all along to this place.

Go here, Dee. Go there, Dee. Go up and down and all around, Dee. If you don’t, Dee, we’ll scowl, Dee. We’ll howl and yowl and furrow our brow, Dee.

Oh, but then there are those intangibles. The no-see-ums. The: “Holy shit, I’m scared-ums.”
The ones that jet set my mind and body on an adventure backward. Back to 1994-95.
Shit. Crap. Fuck, man. There she is. Blocked by a dog whose paws are infiltrating my Mustang.
Geez. What do I do? I feel so much, but am so afraid…

Certain friends say that I have a good instinct for humans. To trust my apprehension.
My instinct? Well it’s not firing on all pistons these days. It can’t be.

I wanna see her. I wanna see her life now. I wanna see her life now that went on so gloriously without me. I wanna congratulate her. I wanna be proud of her. But man, these jitters fuck my head up.
What if I feel something again? I can’t have that. I can’t. Won’t.

And now she’s upset with me. Subtle, but pissed.
I can tell. I can feel it.

She’s hurt because she doesn’t want to be let down again. If anyone is owed a debt to them by me, it is surely her.
But it stings, this slap in the face, to be up against grown-up duties.
I can’t go steal her when I’m 60 if I’m not compliant at 40.
The irony remains. She doesn’t need me at all.

Still…

I wanna finally provide something that has always failed me. A safety net. A landing pad and a glance away from the monetary woes. Needed or not. Given freely. Altruistically.

But yeah, there’s that element of fear, foreboding. I’m afraid to see her again.
More paws, more pause.
It is oh so easy to just toss my dollars into the arena in lieu of my heart.

I’m afraid to feel this again. Karma or not.
She’s always sent me spinning, swirling, whirling and twirling around in the atmosphere.
I gotta keep my feet planted. It’s all I know now. It’s what I’m best at.

I know she loves me.
I love her, too.

But daisies are daisies and they’re doomed to die someday.
It sucks.
But it is.
Love them, love them not.
It doesn’t matter, they do what they do.

I’m gonna try like Hell to get to her this year or next.

But here’s the thing:
We’ll never be more than a round globe apart.
This comforts me beyond belief.
Because somewhere in me is that flicker of light that still believes in silly childhood dreams.

I’ll get there, woman.
You just gotta trust me.
For once, it’ll be ok. You’re my friend.
I take it seriously. I can even be good at it nowadays.

But you…

…you have always been the one who saved the daisies, kept the petals and spared their feelings.

There’s a gift in you.

Keep ’em for me, those packets of light, won’t you?

This entry was posted on Friday, May 18th, 2007 at 10:44 am and is filed under Posts that contain the word "LOVE", Yadge. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.