I laugh and laugh all through my tears, for whom or what I do not know. For me, I think, for my battered soul, or is it my heart that took the toll? My heart, my mind, I’m loosing both for something that doesn’t last or even exist, of this I’m sure.
For pain it comes from knowing not, confusion and being lost. Lost in someone? Lost somewhere? Lost every day and everywhere.
The pain it comes from within, for me and for him. Not to see, not to understand, to talk, to hear, but exactly what? What I say but not what I mean. I don’t understand and neither does he.
And this is where we stand. Confused, in pain, not knowing what is what. I wonder if we’ll ever understand what we really mean when we talk.
Walk through the darkness of everyday life after the loss of a friend. Thinking and feeling what was to have a friend, what was to share a cup of coffee, what was to live everyday life with a little more light than I have now.
To learn and to relearn to move, to breathe, to talk, to work . . . To function without my friend. A friend, a good and true friend, such a rare thing to find, such an oddity an anomaly – at least in my life.-
A friend lost forevermore. No god, no heaven, no afterlife for me and therefore forever without my friend I will be.
I had a dream today about my friend Maria “la loca”, we were out partying like we used to do when I lived in Spain. And just today, after I woke up, she sent me a message when I hadn’t heard from her for a long time.
As I sit drinking my hibiscus tea I see couples coming and going, enjoying their Sunday afternoon.
As I sit barefoot in my worned Target t-shirt and wrinkled cotton pants I inwardly cringe at them.
The cool guys with fedoras, slick hair and matching lumberjack beards. The beautiful girls with flowing long hair and oh so fashionable boutique clothing and designer sandals.
When did this happened? I wonder. When did my relaxed no-give-a-shit town turn I to this pasarela?
But then, it’s not really my town; and this people have always existed here, there and everywhere; and really I’m being judgemental.
They made me want to not shower, and wear last year’s fashion – wrinkled – , and dye my hair purple and come in after a day at the beach treading sand and with salty and crazy hair.
Maybe I’m just . . . Me.
I don’t know what I’m waiting for, or even if I am waiting for anything at all. In truth I was looking forward to a broken heart since it seems to improve my writing. But no depressing thoughts or emotionally charged thoughts of loneliness so far.
I have my moments though, a thought of him, about him, surprises me now and then. Some times I want to tell him something, or sometimes I just want to put my head on his chest – yes, yes I know . . . This is utterly throw-up gagging can’t stand it ridiculousness. Other times I remember his dark moods and everything makes sense.
I’m not sure what’s happening. I keep imagining the weirdest things to try and get a reaction from within me. For example, what if I saw him with a girlfriend? Nothing. What if I saw him with a gorgeous girlfriend? Nothing, well . . . Nope, nothing. I know I like him, I can feel it, but still no heart wrenching pain.
I was pretty mad last week, hurt, confused . . . Then I laughed as I hadn’t laugh in a while. I wish, I wish so many things that cannot be because I am me and he is him. I wouldn’t like him if he wasn’t him, but that also means I can’t be with him. A conundrum, but only for me. Well, for both but he would never admit it.