saturday morning. after five days of being raped of all energy and left without a single thought of my own, five nights of being unable to add to any conversation past 6:00 when i get off work… i get to sit. i choose a coffee shop that you wouldn't be caught dead in, coffee is on the list of things that you judge other people for consuming. but i like this place and light floods in from the wall of windows that face east, erasing last night's sins and making the space feel light.
i text you and i order my latte, the one you would make fun of me for. you're not him, but you're comfortable and you fill my time well. we don't have to say or do much, which feels ok, for the rest of my life exhausts me; and that serves as a pretty good excuse to keep a safe distance. you don't really seem to want to do the things i want to do anyway. photo adventures aren't quite as exciting, baseball games completely uninteresting, and i don't want to go to another bike shop, don't want to watch another movie, don't want to listen to the type of music you prefer to play. but you fit nicely around me when i turn away from you and get in a fetal position. sometimes i get the courage to show you glimpses of my heart but get the feeling that you don't understand me fully anyway, can't navigate through my fumbled words, can't finish my sentences like he could. but thats ok, when conversation isn't as fluid or seems too risky, i can shut down, turn my back to you, pull my knees up to my chest. you seem to understand. so we exist, and your lips are soft on my back.
i take my overpriced stimulus to a carefully picked table but as fate would have it, a group of pharmacy students chooses a table next to me in an otherwise large, empty room and quiz each other on pharmacy terms i'm familiar with. suddenly, abruptly and inconsiderate as always, he barges into my peaceful morning. unwelcomed, he haunts me in bookstores, in songs, restaurants, movies, sports statistics, in memories that still take up so much space of my brain, memories that fill multiple cities. shoving nostalgia down my throat. regularly feeling like a multitude of expectant tears could break free on his cue. i can't see his model of car without looking at the driver to see if he's in town. if i'm in his city, i can't help to hope that i'll randomly run into him. eyes constantly scanning. sure to be wearing something he would like, hair worn in a way that would catch his eye. going to places i know that he frequents.
i get put on auto-pilot and can't control my thoughts or actions, why is he still holding my heart and thoughts hostage? as he moves through life unaffected, what's in it for him? is this some kind of joke? i want my heart back. i handed it to him blindly because he asked for it, but i want it all back. mostly, i want my idealism and hope in love back. i want to believe that the beautiful ceremony of christ to his bride can be experienced by humans, and that the moments of reflecting christ's love to each other can outweigh the times we don't. that the intimacy of sex is something to be saved for one sacred relationship and that it all means something. that we won't always give up on each other. that the nice things you say to me aren't lies and are free from selfish motives. that you are capable of grace and patience, gentleness, faithfulness, goodness. i want light and redemption to invade my heart and erase our sins, i want to feel free from him. free from the bitterness and cynicism. i don't want you to be him. i don't want you to give up on me.
he gave up on me, and for now i give up on love. in practice it just doesn't work. we will always fail. that's gospel.
i take a sip of my drink and roll my eyes at your judgement from afar. but you're really quite alluring if i'm honest. i love the way the way you see the world, it's against the norm and refreshing. you are doing beautiful things with your life, living out of convictions and passions and not leaving it up to someone else to change the world. and i really do believe you are changing the lives of the people around you and the city we live in. we want to change a lot of the same parts of people's worlds, in the same way. the same things make our hearts beat faster, we shed tears for the same injustices. you're so talented and are determined to live a creative life, passionate about the way music has changed the trajectory of your life. you are one of the most unselfish, generous people i've ever met. you seek truth boldly and don't settle for easy answers. money is secondary, actually, last on the list and you fight that idol effortlessly. you make me laugh like few others can. your imagination rivals that of a child unfettered by the hard realities of adulthood. i see myself in you; parts of myself i like and want to be and appreciate and respect the ways that you are different. even if you do think coffee is an addictive, mind altering substance.
we can steal a glance when someone is talking and exchange a multitude of words without interrupting. sometimes i do feel understood, like you get me… like you can see through to my confiscated and deficient heart so i try my best to avoid those moments, ignore the glances, change the subject, make a joke. turn my back. i can't risk not being her, the one. if i don't give you enough of me, you won't be able to tell me i'm not her. that's ok. i don't want to be her. i'll pull my knees over my heart, let you put you arm around my waist, kiss my neck. you don't get me but i don't want to be got. i'll love you from a safe distance. i'll finish my own sentences.
but i wish you would answer your phone because it's saturday and i all i want to do is lay in bed with you all day.
No comments:
Post a Comment