Advertisements

The Letter

We sometimes say things we don’t mean and don’t say things which threaten to build up inside of us until we are so full of them that they carry us away like a balloon to some foreign place where we have never been and we know no one even ourselves but it doesn’t matter anyway because now we simply must figure out where we are and how to go on from there.

In the early mornings during that peaceful period of time between sleeping and waking, I sometimes forget that I am in another place and I am transported back into that safe place in your arms and you love me and I love you. And then I remember where I am. I wish I could drift through life on a cloud like that sometimes, in a dream, but then I stare into that empty timeless vacuum of reality and I feel I am forsaken; I feel forsaken.

It was just so close this time, so near to that mark. If I were more compliant, if you were less complacent, if I weren’t so late, if appearances weren’t so important to you, if I were more trusting, if you were more open, if only I didn’t need those shoes, if only you didn’t crave those nights out, if only I cared more about conformity, if only you cared less, if I were less passionate, if you were more compulsive, if God was God and Jesus was Jesus and there was no right or wrong way to love them, if, if, if….so many ifs.

I know I should go out and join the living and they keep asking me to but I say I am not ready. I look at them and they are either too much like you or they will never measure up to you and I am afraid either way. I know the time will come but it is not here yet and so I wait for it to come but meanwhile I am alone.

Life goes on around me and I must flow along with it somehow. Funny how the most trivial things become of great consequence, such as how you made the pizza, the way you fed the squirrels, the sound of your voice when you sang those words to me which at the time meant so much, the quarrel at the motel, and the way we looked at each other and time stood still and we knew, we just knew.

And this morning, well it had been so long, so very long, you know. And I thought about your voice saying things we knew we should not say and my voice saying those things I should not say but it felt so good to be bad with you. It felt so good to be your little girl and well…I just felt free.  I could read you and you could read me-like a book of life, a mirror to our souls; that is the worst of it. Knowing someone almost as well as you know yourself and having someone know you, I mean really know you. That is the worst of it.

I imagine sometimes that we run away together but I know that if that happened I may one day begin crying and I would cry so much that it would fill up the room and we would both drown. And I can’t swim and would you save me? Could you save me if you can’t save yourself? I must learn how to swim. I’ve made myself a promise that is one of the first things I shall do whenever I feel a little more like myself once again. I mustn’t be afraid of the water and you mustn’t either, but I worry that you are sometimes not so cautious and you may just dive in again so quickly that you will hit rock bottom, yes I still worry about you. I don’t believe I can even sink so low as to hit rock bottom again, I would just flounder about, and float. That’s simple enough, to just drift along hoping that a big wave doesn’t come along out of nowhere and knock me off balance again. But it will someday, and it won’t be you riding it but it will knock me off again. I am sure of it. I am prepared for it though for I know that no matter how high or wide or mighty it may be, the ride will never be as exhilarating and the wave will never carry me as high and the fall will never be as deep and the thrust will never be as great. I will never fall this hard again. I recall the taste of the ocean on my lips and feel it sting my eyes and I know that of all the memories nothing will ever taste as bittersweet or swirl so warm around my heart or leave me shivering so violently when I step out of the water.

Sharon Lynn Van Meter

Copyright 2009

Advertisements

About sharonsharinginsights

Namaste'! I write poetry, stories, essays, reviews, editorials, screenplays, lyrics.....you get the idea! I love to write. I graduated from UI&U in Vermont, U.S. with BA in Writing and Literature with a concentration in Women's Studies. I was chosen and interviewed as local artist for my writing on local online college magazine HOWL (circa 2003). My writings have been published in several genres and I have won numerous awards for my poetry. I am desirous of having my own collection of poetry and/or other writings published in my OWN book. I am passionate about women's issues, romance, love and a great number of benevolent causes. I am pretty passionate about almost anything that is NOT mundane or boring. I write from my soul (cliche' I know). Most of my work has been published and/or copyrighted (all either or both). My goal, again, is to publish a book of poetry, short stories, a novel, novellas, another song (collaborating with someone who writes music...hello, out there?)....OK more later, and thank you for checking me out! Sharon View all posts by sharonsharinginsights

One response to “The Letter

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Support

WordPress.com Support

Jamie Lee's Crystal Connection

A Forum of News, Support and Education for the Transgender Community

Hiking Photography

Beautiful photos of hiking and other outdoor adventures.

Jules' Fuel

Fueling lifestyle wellness & purpose.

sethsnap

Photographs from my world.

the hour of soft light...

How do I know what I think until I see what I say? (E.M. Forster)

Rawclyde's Code Room

On the alert for Love Peace & Freedom...

Books by Sharmishtha Basu

My (e) Books in Amazon Kindle n Createspace

The Mind of RD REVILO

Conscious Thought: Driven by Intelligent Awareness

Poetry and Musings

by: Kathleen Stevens

Words Becoming

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

Memoirs of a Dragon

Dragon Thoughts and Quantum Musings

Catherine G. Vilbrun

Capturing Life With The Immortality Of Words

It Rains... You Get Wet

Still more lazy thoughts from this one...

rad infinitum

politics, pilgrimage, pop culture, poetry.

Relationship Reinvented

Reinvent your innocence to Reinvent your Relationships... Love Deeply

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

The Wonders Of Writing

All about writing, poetry and more!

A Ghost Town Called Love

haunted by Rawclyde!

%d bloggers like this: