2002-07-02 - 12:00 a.m.

mmmmmm....

I am feeling contemplative tonight. Also, lucky. There are two cards on my mouse- stand/psuedo thing next to me. In the warehouse of my mind sit vases of flowers. Some peachy roses, some carnations. My silver jewlery sits in the bathroom. The mouse stand itself was gifted to me.

In none of these doth my love reside. These are the mere outward signposts that reflect an inward explosion of feeling, a chaos of love.

I have always loved tye-dye and fractals.

Right now my insides swirl with rainbow fractals in 4 dimensions when I think about him. I feel like all my potential is recognized, finally. I was an electric cord just waiting to be plugged in, to let the love pulse and flow.

I was alone. I was wrong. I was scared, and confused. I wanted so badly to be here, now, that I tried to shut my eyes and pretend. Some pain, and some realizations opened me up to the possibility of something else.

I did not go out and look for this, I thought it existed not. I thought how it had been was how it always would be.

Can you believe I never dreamed of this? I didn't. I never hoped for better, never mused on the idea of what could be. I was wiling to accept any cheap imitation, some cover of an original lyric I didn't know could be sung.

And we slid, to where we are now. I shiver when I think how fortuetous we have been. Why else would I try to be nice to a horse that had done me such pain? My leg, my skin are nothing to when my lord rode for me.

I am excited for him to go to las vegas because one of the first pictures I have of him is from that event.

Different location, different time.

I don;t wish to live in any past, or stay in the present but I am grateful to all these small items, insignificant details, and I love them too.

Now is different. Now is not an hour going by awake that I do not think of him. Now is when I dream of him.

Now is when I can imagine how his skin feels to my hand from his hair, to his nose, his shoulders, his navel, his hips, knees, heels.

Now is how I can hear his voice saying what I can't ask to be told, what I need to be told.

Now I hear his voice, and his voice is love.

My voice too! Imagine.

Laughing, because I can see us in a life. With a lot of love. He picking up a little girl and telling her he loves her. We eating dinner outside with children, and family, and love.

If I am wrong, so mote it be. If ever my love sours to me, or I to him, then this time will still not be forsworn, nor wasted. If I die and am eaten by wild dogs and no one knows for many days, still I will have loved. My feelings will not be lessened by any future event. I shall not say " I never loved. I was mistaken." I cannot. This is my proof, my sign to myself.

Where else would I write?

To whom would I speak?

Only here, to myself, an afterthought to the rest, a wish to please him.

-bsg-

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