People To Remember

Lunch With A Friend

Had lunch with someone close today. Afterwards, we found a nice mossy spot by a small lake. It was beautiful and green. A new family of geese searched for food nearby. A red squirrel tittered to it’s friends and seemed to be getting an early start on collecting acorns from a nearby oak. The water was still. A maple across the lake had the slightest hint of orange. The refection of the treeline in the water shimmered peacefully with the gentle breeze blowing across the surface.

As we sat, we spoke of a lot of things. Life mostly. Things in it and around it. Things we have right now. Things that are going to change soon. Big life. Small life.

As we spoke, I came to a realization. About a lot of things, but one thing in particular really sticks out.

So many of us go through life thinking that the purpose is to find someone to come with us on our journey. No one considers the people who taught us what to do or how to feel when we find them.

Love has always been a huge theme in my life. From unrequited, unrealized, unwanted, and needed but never really there. Family, friends, strangers. But never for very long.

I thought to myself, and my friend, maybe I’m not one of those people who gets someone to come on these crazy adventures I get myself into. Maybe that’s ok.

I’ve had the opportunity for so much love. So much true love.

I believe every love is true love, even if it’s not forever, it’s necessary to help one learn.

Maybe all these crazy adventures lead me around to find these loves. To love them. To teach them. To have these crazy moments and then continue on my way.

It sounds tragic, and maybe it is a little, but someone has to be the person who’s ok with teaching love. So many of us seem to have forgotten what it means to be loved; forgotten what it’s like to love. I mean, really love someone. With everything you have in you in that moment. Even if it’s just for a moment.

In all my sporadic movement; my impulsive life; my sudden leaps, I can’t expect anyone to be willing to follow me into the next, usually dark, moment. No. It’s better if we have the beautiful, wonderful minute, leave it at that, and they can go and find their true love. Live their real dreams, without a windswept romantic stirring their control up every chance I get.

So, I hope to find more love in my life. I’m sure that I will. I find new, amazing, glorious people every day.

I hope they learn to love. Me and then the world.

After all,

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return.”

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When your true love is something you’ve always had and can never have again

I don’t remember much before him.

When I saw him my world changed.

It was always everything. We both knew it. Immediately, our lives intertwined.

I was so young. 13 is a delicate age.

When we met, he was blue and I was trying to be one of them.

A year passes, he wants something else. That’s ok. We were young. But I was devastated. My world rocked. I had to leave.

“I’m going to slit your throat, drain your blood, put it in a bottle and send it to your mother so she can she what a mess you’ve become.” -Him

14 is a delicate age. Alone again. No family. Only broken memories and a whirlwind of courtrooms and foster homes. Trying to be accepted in a whole new world.

An apology. Someone reaching out. Someone asking me for help when I thought I had nothing. All they wanted was me, right?

So I promised I’d be there.

Risks were high. A weekend home on a train to nowhere right, but he was there. Along the way.

“I’ll meet you there. Just get off the train.” -Him

I never got off the train. I was scared. I thought I had family. Maybe I could go out and visit him the right way.

I missed my train.

Years pass. Life happens.

17 is a delicate age. Living with a man, really trying to be a whole person. Still alone in a world gone wrong. Family in distant intimate spaces.

A way out.

“Pack your things, I’ll come and get you.” -Him

My knight in shining armor, here at last. This was it. We were going to be together forever. Everything was perfect.

Chaos. Manic. Love.

We were together. Beauty came. A perfect; amazing; beautiful child. Words could never express how happy I was that he was ok and that he was ours.

That he is ours.

Then there was us. The baby and I. Our son, and growing is hard.

And he worked so hard.

But I worked so hard.

And we didn’t see each other working so hard. And we were alone. There were people who didn’t want us to be together;

Who were alone;

Who were scared of being alone.

Depression.

I left. I shouldn’t have left.

I left.

Then he came back.

Then he left.

Then he came back.

Goddammit. Life. I always wanted it to work.

We had this beautiful dream. Of going to hell and back. Of adventure and chaos. Everything would be ok..

But he was never really there.

And I still stumble around in all this “adventure and choas” that I thought we would be in together. All of us. Our perfect son experiencing the glory of the dreams we had.

“Stop calling us family.” -Him

I am alone.

He lives his dreams and I live mine.

I hope things will be ok someday.