thoughtful #afterthoughts

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……afterthoughts

Other things my fear kept from you (read: me):

thoughtful [thought·ful / THôtfəl] adjective: absorbed in our involving thought; or…showing consideration for the needs of other people; or…showing careful consideration or attention; but really …painting chess pieces, sending time capsule’d care packages across time zones, peanut butter cookies with fork prints, scrapbooks, and ‘what not to wear’ inspired wardrobe make overs.

…him… …him…once told me what he wanted for Christmas. My somebody to love. We hadn’t yet spoken those words to each other, but we were in that space and time and doing the lovely things to one another that meant that word. What he wanted was above and beyond what he could do for himself at the time. But he wanted it anyway. I have to admit, that was a lovely thing about …him… To be in that hopeful expectant place, and be inspired. The intonations in his voice. How he spoke to assuredly. Like he could see into the future. I suppose he has a prophesize’n way about him.  

For months, on purpose, with fine attention to detail, and sales, I granted that Christmas wish. Not for ego, or vanity, or some type of reward, or even because we had lovely ways about each other. I did it because I knew that it might make him happier that he had been that entire year. Sure there were awesome things that happened to him. But I knew him well enough, in what little loveliness we had, to know that if he counted is good times, and bad times, he’d be lucky if he had more of the former that year. 

 I was absolutely right. Completely correct. I shall never forget a single minute of that fleeting moment. Every now and again, when I get lost in my after-it-all thoughts, I end up there. Full of a feeling I haven’t known in years. That memory is almost a decade old. And so is that energy. That enthusiasm. That engagement in a task. Not even sure I could muster up the eagerness to do such a thing ever again.

Promises. I actually promised myself I would never do that specific a thing again. Make something happen for someone I thought lovely things about, like the way I did…him…

Problem being, most people won’t be committed enough to you to carefully construct something that will mean the world to you. Sooner than you think, lovely will end.

 And all the moments you captured for memories won’t feel the same.

…a man… much later in my life after lovely went away #HesGoneToo, once told me that I was thoughtful. Because I remember things. I was so intrigued by that remark, you know. Don’t we all remember? Well, me? Not really. I actually forget more things than I remember – at least I think I do. I’m so good at forgetting, I can tell my staff team what things they need to remind me of, and what things they don’t, because I know, consciously what ish I’ll forget just as soon as they tell me.

At least I thought I was good at forgetting stuff (not on purpose, my job is stressful sometimes, yo). That man didn’t feel the same way about it. About my remembrance. It, my ability to remember him, was confounding. Because…a man…didn’t remember people they way that I did.

Before the discussing ended …a man… asked me about all of this. In a space and time where I had nothing to lose. I could have worked through some of my emotional mess. But my thoughts were so full of fear. What would I allow myself to say? And what would those words mean? How could I have manufactured a way unwittingly to this particular moment in life #musiq ? What was I not over-nonsensically thinking?

My thoughts filled that train ride home. #LocalTrainToSJ #MakesAllStops

If

 I had that moment again, I might have told …a man… that perhaps somewhere on the inside, I decided to love other people in ways I’m probably never going to be loved. I mean, I hope and pray to the Lord that I am loved in these ways one day – but it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen…at least not in the ways I hoped it would…or using the timeline I *so humbly* suggested. #GuessIHaventSweptThatDressAllTheWayUp #AshesLeftOver

And, because…well, I am afraid someone (else) will tell me I’m not worth the thoughtfulness of remembering…because someone (else) already told me how they never felt about me and how that never changed (and never would change). Which I can’t seem, for the mental health of me, to unremember (made that word up too, because unremembering was probably the point of the telling).

How can anyone live life for any amount of time not worth the thought of being remembered? Or being remembered in a lovely way? Did you know that the act of remembrance is lifesaving? It’s an act of love.

And you cannot love what you cannot remember.

fear, like all addictions

never really goes away

try all you can

…and you’ll surely have another fearful day.

if i’ve not learned anything well at all

not living my life as fully as i could

i figured out that with

patience,

forgiveness,

courage,

and a (lot bit) of prayer

one can keep your fear at bay.

have faith,

you will be afraid my love,

…and have so many more brave days.

#DoingItAfraid #JustLikeTamesaSaid #SheSoSmartAndKindAndImportant 

#INeed2CatchUpWithHer #ItsBeenTooLong #ButClearlyIRememberHer #ThatsLove

This is the end.

Like For Real, For Real. #IsYouMadOrNah?