time [tīm] noun: the thing that’s sooooo not on your side…but it is…just not for too long. #fallen
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here is nothing like time
to help you deal with a thing you think you might actually live long enough to
feel the real and defined (in
this) definition of regret. I
swear Carl Thomas was singing my life. Like why did I have to suffer through
that mental fatigue? How about if I never even met you, I would have been just
fine. And by just fine, I probably would have been over-nonsensically-thinking
about something or someone else. Point is, it would not have been about you.
But I am okay now. By okay,
I mean, I have placed you in a place that doesn’t mentally assault me. In this
time, I got distracted by someone else. And that person did a terrible awful
thing to me. And, I really don’t know if I’ll ever feel any of those feelings
again, so thinking about you doesn’t uproot my nerve endings like it once did.
I think I might understand what you were meaning that day #hurtslikehell #thewayitis
#leavethepieceswheretheyare #itaintworfitmisscelie. The pieces just don’t fit
anymore, right? And you begin to wonder if they ever did. Anyway, I’ll just
leave this wreckage right where it is. I hate cleaning.
Welcome Back, Tho.
I’m at a new airport,
living in a new (not really) place, waiting in baggage
claim again. Feeling awkwardly anxious in the best way. Confident. Calm.
Collected. Everything about this is new to me – hello, you’ve met me! You know
how I work. This is working out quite nicely.
I walked around in circular
heeled two-step, wondering if I spent too much time in the hectic craziness
before that point. Leaving work early. Picking my sister up. Making a pit-stop
with her. Dropping her off. Phone suddenly not working. On my way to the
airport. No way to tell him where I am. Parking, forgetting to remember where
I’ve left the car. And moving as fast as humanly possible in these red Jessica
Simpson pumps, because in all that, I had to skip changing from my work
clothes. Time was on my side tho. Yes it was.
He caught a glimpse of me,
after the gentleman he was speaking with caught a glimpse of me, and we smiled.
It felt like relief. I forgot everything about each fret before that moment and
got lost in the seconds between our smiles. There was this deep remembrance of
a feeling neatly tucked away. I lived there for what seemed like ever after.
We had the most perfect weekend. Like literally, perfect. The calamity about my phone turned into a conscientious purchase of a new (temporary) one so I would have time to decide what kind of phone I really wanted #anothernotsmartphone. The craziness of traffic gave me time to carefully (read: carelessly) navigate us to all the awesome sights in my sunny city. The cold morning waiting for our corral to begin running, brought us closer together as we inched toward the start line. My curiously convoluted behaviors and questions never once disturbed his calculated responses or reactions. We even catnapped.
I got everything I never
knew I wanted. And for once, I didn’t spend a minute worrying about if his needs
were being met. Hell, I didn’t even fret for my own needs. I was just there. In
time.
Time was so kind to me.
And when he kissed me,
there were no fireworks. Okay, fireworks, kinda. There was no explosion or
activation of every sense in my being. Okay, there were some explosions and
activations, kinda #Candor
#UnhookTheLieDetector StopFactCheckingMyDictionaryDammit! I used to wonder why. I
don’t anymore. See, when you are lost in time, there is only a deepening. A
careful understanding of life. Like the man knowing something, knowing that he
knows nothing at all, right? No? Maybe?!?! See!!! And all that never made sense
about us, was clear. It was never about there even being an us to begin with. Just being – in shared time. #ThereIsNoSpoon
I was a being intertwined
in another being, and we were given time to be whatever we wanted to be…or not
even worry about having to classify what our being was.
I did not want him to
leave. Lord knows I shed a thug tear in the car on the way back to work. But it
was for selfish reasons. I wanted to exist outside of my reality because it
wasn’t this. The only thing being deepened, as that tear fell thuggishly was
the longing for my somebody’s son[1]. Mostly because I imagined
that he felt something like this.
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