Forever January

You were coughing and I was coughing. You’d sneeze and I’d move away from you. Here we were, two lepers at the end of the front row, being ostracised by our non-germy classmates. You run to the bathroom in a fit of achoo’s and hack-hack’s.

Upon return, you ask me what you missed and then said, under your breath, “You’re sick, too, huh?”

“Indeed I am. Here, want a cough drop?”

And if we had said more than that, what would we have told our children? Pesky microbes and Ricola cough drops brought us together?

There’s the stuff of romance for you.

Every last snot-filled bit of it.

“I think maybe you were too exotic, too mysterious for me,” The Yankee tells me from across the room.

I purse my lips at him and raise one eyebrow, my face saying to him, “Whatever on Earth are you talking about? I am just a girl.”

“You have all these dreams and ideas and ambitions. I was so attracted to you–I still am, you know that–but you’re just too different for me to love. You have no sense of time and you’re always late, you like winter and I love summer, your logic concerning your emotions is non-existent. You are the most interesting person I have ever met, but I never could understand the world inside your head.

I really hope you find someone that loves you for the amazing person you are. You deserve that more than anyone else I know.

You’ve always been crème brûlée and I really prefer brownies. I couldn’t appreciate how wonderful and unique you really are.”

And it is strange to have this line of openness with a former lover, to be able to talk so freely about how things were, what went wrong … and through it all, to maintain a friendship after the storm has passed. I’m quite glad we’ve managed to do that.

And so, if anyone knows a single, dashingly handsome man that prefers crème brûlée to brownies, just send him my way, won’t ya?

“Dors bien, mon amour”, you write to me as your parting.

I find it amazing how such simple words can make my heart skip a beat, bring a smile to my face.

When there are dreams of you to be had here in my head, sleep is always wonderfully beautiful.

Happy Valentine’s Day, mon ange.

And so I am. Exhausted, stressed … but happy.

I know everything is going to be okay.

And of course, there are things I should be doing: studying more, doing more homework so I don’t have to rush. But I’m not as young as I used to be and functioning on 2-3 hours of sleep a night is … difficult, to say the least. And since I finished tomorrow’s assignment, I’m carrying myself to bed.

My happy self to bed, where I shall hopefully (and happily) dream of him.

Un jour j’espère que nous serons ensemble, que nos deux coeurs sont un. Tu as mis le soleil à mon coeur, inspires le bonheur dans mon âme. Je veux t’embrasser, t’aimer.

Je te veux toujours dans ma vie.

(more…)

to M.–

it will always appear that
I am the ocean and you – a sea-foam
covered shore, always embraced by the
water, yet you are universes away and
my heart cannot hold yours …
but always will I love a
little part of your
wolfish heart …

to my old love[r] –

your distance from me is
like an ocean –
and i sob,
for my toes want to
feel the
warmth of the sand
on the other
side.

My heart remembers your kisses.

Ah, océan, you’ve always been enraptured within my mind. Waning, ebbing, pulling me in, pulling me away, separating.

It is my deepest hope one day you’ll set me on the right current and send me where I need go to, into the arms of one who’ll love me.

And while you don’t know, there’s room for you here in my heart. I’ve built up crystalline castles and gardens of aurora borealis in the hopes that one day you’ll reside here, one day you’ll view this as home.

I imagine how your kisses would release butterflies into my stomach, turn my legs into water, melting me into the floor.

I imagine so many things with you.

But all this I leave to Fate.