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Thank mercy for young boys. Young boys who will drive, at the slightest provocation, many many miles to come see me. On a whim. Then take me for dinner. Then dessert. They are splendid creatures. Rare and exceptional, wicked and sly. Somewhere there is a poem waiting in all this. Thank mercy for young boys.
what colour eyes would your children have?
There is a boy of my acquaintance who is far too old to be considered a boy by most standards, who is also likely coming to town soon. Any day now. There is an annual event he attends here that begins on Tuesday. We used to be close, me and this gentleman I persistently call a boy, (as well as a dove, another pet name misnomer), but there was a falling out which felled us apart, and now I am terrified that if or when he comes, he will not call.
It used to be we would talk every day. Months of it, mostly out of the same city. Logging in long distance every night before bed, turning on the camera just to have company. Reading to each other, waving, singing, writing our lives out like diary entries to be late night tattooed on our skin. Always, as ever, it was the thought of you that held me through. An entire dictionary range of love letters and affectionate inspiration. Calling in the morning, saying good night. We were perpetually in presence, even over mountains. I could not imagine a day without saying his name. When, after a very long while, he finally topped my patience, a significant amount of time after our relationship had smoothed from flame into family, my letter said I didn't want to talk for only a week. Once that was done, I sent another hello. "I miss you." After all, some people you can't but help to continually love. Almost all I've received in the year since is silence. Now, somehow, the possibility that he may not even call.
I cannot help wonder what it is I could have possibly done to be so wronged.
ps. by the way, if you happen to come across a copy of Fever Ray, (the new solo album from The Knife's nice howling lady), fallen off the back of the internet truck, I would like a copy, for it is Good.
There is a boy of my acquaintance who is far too old to be considered a boy by most standards, who is also likely coming to town soon. Any day now. There is an annual event he attends here that begins on Tuesday. We used to be close, me and this gentleman I persistently call a boy, (as well as a dove, another pet name misnomer), but there was a falling out which felled us apart, and now I am terrified that if or when he comes, he will not call.
It used to be we would talk every day. Months of it, mostly out of the same city. Logging in long distance every night before bed, turning on the camera just to have company. Reading to each other, waving, singing, writing our lives out like diary entries to be late night tattooed on our skin. Always, as ever, it was the thought of you that held me through. An entire dictionary range of love letters and affectionate inspiration. Calling in the morning, saying good night. We were perpetually in presence, even over mountains. I could not imagine a day without saying his name. When, after a very long while, he finally topped my patience, a significant amount of time after our relationship had smoothed from flame into family, my letter said I didn't want to talk for only a week. Once that was done, I sent another hello. "I miss you." After all, some people you can't but help to continually love. Almost all I've received in the year since is silence. Now, somehow, the possibility that he may not even call.
I cannot help wonder what it is I could have possibly done to be so wronged.
ps. by the way, if you happen to come across a copy of Fever Ray, (the new solo album from The Knife's nice howling lady), fallen off the back of the internet truck, I would like a copy, for it is Good.
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Date: 2009-01-19 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-19 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-19 11:19 pm (UTC)Also, thanks. Shame the lenses are are so old it's like looking through fog.
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Date: 2009-01-20 02:58 pm (UTC)I've also been given silence as an answer, and it's a terrible response. It's also been a growing experience for me, for I have had to learn that I can still be a wonderful person even when someone I care for and admire is incapable of seeing that. A hard thing, to be sure.
My sympathies, and well-wishes for the possibility of contact, but try not to let your sense of self be tied up in his decisions. It's his right to hold on to spectacular misunderstandings, and no reflection of you.
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Date: 2009-01-20 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 06:53 am (UTC)b) I have, even after 4 1/2 years of marriage, of nearly 13 years with one person, still some people that I wish I had not lost touch with, even though they were...people in my past.
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Date: 2009-01-20 07:32 pm (UTC)b) people are amazing that way, no? how we drift and how quickly.
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Date: 2009-01-20 12:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-21 02:47 am (UTC)