I longed for warmer weather, but now that it is here I miss the comforts of winter. Hot tea, cozy sweaters and less spiders invading my personal space.
Like the flowers in my garden I try to open up to every new day and be welcoming to those coming my way, be they bees or wanna-be’s. But when the night draws nearer, like the flowers too, I retreat – I don’t want to share my bed.
I have two pillows for another reason and there are corners of myself I know I will never share. That is not your fault – it is my choice. Because then at least there will be something that can never be tainted, forever mine, forever true. Where the stories live and all those lovers I never had except in dreams.
I always cook enough for two, but if I gave you a plate all I’d be thinking is how you’re eating next day’s lunch.
I like remembering people. How they were, or who I thought they were, in that one moment, on that one day, during that short time we shared. I like staying in the “before” so I don’t have to live with the “after”.
I know you want a chance at the in-between, but it is heavily guarded by those ghosts of people I’ve made up.
There’s one more glass of wine and while I drink and once again the night settles in I wonder: how to make that one ghost real, the one that’s been there all along, never left my side and knows my story. Now that would be a feat.
“I think I was born with a broken heart, lonesome deep in my bones.”
[Part 6 of Volume 2 of my “Thinking in Acronyms” series”]