1/12/2006 - The Nonsensical Truth

Do you see how when the sun sets, streaks of blood drip across the horizon? We watched it come on like two passengers in a plane wreck, in slow motion... interwoven souls tearing apart at the seams of time... nothing could have prevented it from happening any other way.

I want to stay friends. I love you so much. You need this. I can watch you love another and it will not hurt too much.

So many contradictions.

Wish it didn't hurt to think of someone you love, loving someone else. Really wish it didn't.

Wish I could be a friend. Wish I could talk to you. Wish I had something to say. Wish we could say things to each other.

But I know where you are now, I've been there in your place before. What you're doing now, I'd done many times in my necessary naivete to my first love. I could never understand why he cast me out of his life, but I think I understand now. It wasn't out of cruelty. It was because I was cruel to him, and I didn't even know it, and couldn't possibly help it. He had to protect himself. I am standing naked, arms spread in the storm of your youth. I have to protect myself. I have to survive. I have so much love for you. I wish I could tell you. I wish you could tell me.

You'll see it, when you have lived some of your life and you look back on the Us that once existed, even though I will be long gone from your life. Such a staggered synchronicity we had. It was almost a harmony.

You love her you hurt me you love me. I need you out of my life and out of my mind god I love you. It is the nonsensical truth of a million torn souls and I know it. There's so much love, and you wouldn't even know it was there if it weren't for the pain.

I've known since the day I met you that I would be your casualty, the way my first love was mine. I remember cringing, knowing that I was now in his position. I saw it come like a train with no brakes, straight for me, powerless to move because my love for you had glued me to the tracks.

It is comforting in a way, now that I am travelling in these shoes, to know that you will always love me the way I will always love John. It is tragic to know that some day, we will be less than strangers who have not spoken for years... long after the pain has subsided and apathy has set in.

Because at first I will not want to see you. The pain is too great.... and later... it will just be too late.

Long ago when we were still in love I'd woken up early from nightwalking in the Mojave Desert to wander in solitude among the dunes, marvelling at The Way Things Were. You and Carl were asleep in the car, the collective steam of two vibrantly alive beings fogging up the windows and I walked to a tree, near where we had made a fire to cook our food and spoken about things I can't recall, but still vividly remember. And I wrote in my leatherbound journal, handbound for me with love by the person whose heart I'd broken when I fell in love with you:

"I saw a tree, and it's branch grown too long, and too far out

and it had broken off

And I thought about, how the breakdown of this tree was neither good, nor bad.... or meant to be

but that once it was one way

and now it's not, anymore."