I’m tired of talking all the time. Guessing. Mindreading. Let’s just be honest.
You tell me.
It may not matter in the long run what your political party affiliation is right now. It may not matter much more in ten years. In 100 years, however, we’re all (the living I mean) gonna be out of time. If we knew it was coming, science, the end and all that, wouldn’t we sharpen our plans to combat global warming? Shareholder value means little when the farms dry up and die off. Famin will cripple you quicker than war. But there was no enemy to shoot at.
Back up.
I don’t need to take on any new projects. Convert someone else’s politics. Not sure how keeping my mouth shut would ever work for long. Best not to reenter that path. She said it already. Not much different from the last time. Yes, but… I must’ve forgotten about the politics error. Okay, reset expectations. Or retract all landing gear? Hover. Quiet. Breathe. Allow her to emerge. Chasing is not encouraged. Warm indifference? Expected silences?
Busy is an answer. Tired is too.
I wonder. As I wander and quest on for a partner if the quest itself is the fun? Do I crush worthy partnerships so I can write about it, explore the loss, and then pursuit again? Nope. Well, I can say that with partial confidence. This (gestures with his arms at the surrounding room) is the best life has to offer: the now. This (again with the hand gestures) is all I am focused on. This (no gesture) moment. This now. Now.
I was about to go off on a Dr. Suess blast but I snipped off the prompt before any content was produced. Please hold that right there. A moment of truth between us, for once. Now, back to the facade.
She said something like “I’m going to rest until I’m not tired.”
Wow. Not going to parse that one out.
I wonder if not having any kind of adult relationship in her life gives us an edge or a cliff? What’s sex life like if you’re always alone? How would someone new upset the apple cart? Why risk it? This is what I know. I guess it’s okay.
No.
We were meant to be in love, in relationship, in process. We never quit growing. Ascending. Aspiring to closer and more-fulfilling love. As you begin to understand, over time and failed relationships, how important an aspirational partner is, you won’t ever settle for complacent. I’m on the move. You be on the move. Let’s groove.
Again I see I’ve lost the thread.
You tell me what we might look like. What our upcoming rendezvous might look like. I’m putting my poet to bed. Wake yours up. I’ll be here when you’re ready. …and wait…
I want an artist, a writer, a painter, a singer, a dancer, an archer, a contortionist, and goddess. All wrapped in one. I won’t settle until I get there. The first sign of “WTF” and I’m outta there. Too much of many things is a problem. But the love and adoration of someone and something outside yourself is essential. Feeling the feelings for the migrant farm workers and their busted up families. We feel too much, sometimes. It’s paralyzing.
I have been paralyzed by opportunities. Like now. Two competing books. Two jobs. Two kids. Two two two. If I wait on the head of the bull, in the middle of the horns of the dilemma, I’d be there all day. I’d like to see how they both turn out while not risking the loss of either one. Kiss one woman at a time. Yes. But can I tell the other woman I’m not kissing anyone else? All the lies pile up in my mind and I know I can’t just fuck for fun. I thought I could. Imagined I’d make a great porn actor, back in the day. I don’t want to waste time on fruitless relationships. And a casual one would be the most fruitless of all.
I have a certain number of hours left. I’m betting it’s many. I’m writing like it’s few. And I’m pushing the <publish> button often. I’m my own industry. An empire of words and sounds. I am glad to welcome you inside, I’ve prepared quite a show.
Tell me. What’s in your big top? Lions, tigers, and bears? Ranches and pickup trucks. Sunsets. Set a course for us. Give me a little of your time and consideration. What could we do? What is pleasurable? What is a boundary? We both understand long silences. Still, here I am again. Poking my joy in.
So. You tell me.
the new ending: > next | index