The windmills of my mind
...always turning....
Tonight....
The lights went out - without warning - the lamp's bulb began to flicker and then fade to nothing - darkness...I realise no electricity *LOL* it figures - just when I am inspired to write....
So now I am writing furiously on paper to get this all down before it leaves me... writing, by the dim flames scattered around me...
My head is full of musings. I went down, just before penning this (as soon as the lights went out) to sit by the lake (I am ever thankful I live here by the water)...the dark edges of dusk, creeping in, twilight still faintly lingering - resisting the night's eventual fall.
Clouds, sparse - above the horizon like the wisps of my thoughts as they fill my head with glimpses of a past life - and - as always, trying to find the key, piece together the reason why my love suddenly went south. (Do I really want to know why? Or do I hold the key inside of me?)
The lake is stock still and dark - a glimmer of the orange-rose sunset still tinting the sky above. I see the boats lit on the water (I wish I were on one of them - out there...)- a red star peeking just above the horizon, glinting madly - reminding me to go commit this to paper...
3 days now - no sleep - delirium sets in....
My mind keeps flashing the phrase 'economy of words' but I don't know why or what it means in this instance....
Streaming consciousness...
...tonight I was taking in a meal at a restaurant, watching a couple - so obviously in love that they were crammed together seated, on the same side of a small booth - and, suddenly the memory of my love with him, of our early days comes rushing at me like a tidal wave. Of US together sitting in a booth at Tommie's in Coventry, close - as close as we could get within decency for a restaurant (and sometimes not even caring if we were being decent). I want to scream at this couple in the now - across the restaurant: "Wait! You just WAIT!!!" But why? What for?
Other memories begin jabbing at me, almost taunting me with their perfection, those stained-glass visions too beautiful to forget but now painful to reminisce about - have become somewhat surreal...not quite 'the way the story goes'.
Snatches of songs, of sights, of smells bring back the memories...I am too tired for all of this but I want to (need to?) find the clues so I can stop repeating my own shitty history...
Memories....
of an ex, an ex, and another ex...(*laughs* bitter now) musing: "A string of men in a long line with more to come???" Suddenly feeling exhausted by that thought....
One ex-lover with memories of a lifetime ago - of late teens, early 20s - his are always late summer memories; when we met. First date and he has to ask me to burn a tick off of his head (all my fault) because I teasingly knocked the ever-present suede cap off of his head onto the ground and when he put it back on his head, a tick had managed to jump into the cap and attach itself to his scalp...memories of him being just quirky enough so that I wanted to learn more, realising as I fell for him that loving him was as natural to me as breathing...memories of running off to the carnival for a season of summer with him...hints at his past - dark and abusive childhood - of finally landing in and living in the deep south - land of summer - of a chance to have a baby together - of him not wanting the baby as I did - of me having her anyhow - thinking she'd be a gift for both of us...finally memories of his sudden descent into his illness, madness and violence more sadness, fleeing his illness, taking the baby with me, glad that I had escaped, guilty that I had escaped...then the final sadness, watching the disease kill him...even more guilt...it still lingers with me even now....
New love, new memories...of again a summer, sweltering heat in Houston, Texas - big as the corn-blue sky can hold, of tentatively dating someone new - another Yankee (this one from New York) - me bineg a single mom and making memories of comfort and of stability (not so much passion), of building a future, of a shared/similar familial background (we both lost our moms at the same age); at last a safe harbour - but eventually realising - after having a second child, that I was not suppose to be more (or want to be more) than wife and mother - memories of trying to spread my wings only he wanted to keep his beautiful butterfly pinned down...memories of the anger building and resentment and finally lashing out and having the affair...all the memories of the pain and hurt I caused...
All that in order to fall in love again - madly in love; falling full force into my passion - without a safety net - the deliciousness of the affair, the taboo, sex, hot, incredible with no boundaries (I should have seen it coming then) - so blind though so in love, even till its bitter end - even now - still hurting because of this love. It's like a nagging toothache - alternating between dull and sharp (if it weren't such a pain in the ass, I'd marvel at it - and maybe I DO marvel at it...)- but then I ask myself: Does it hurt more because *I* was the one 'left', the one betrayed? Is the problem that I am now face-to-face with my own karma - my come-uppance (of my own creating?)???
Even now and then when I see him - my heart feels like it wants to be tender but then something shuts down/closes hard and he is always playing the role of infinite melancholy so well - so rehearsed - so heartbreaking - but something stops me from fully embracing this yet again - lest I get lost....
All these memories - seemingly holding the key to me - to my unraveling - I just keep searching for answers I will probably never find...
Now...
The lights are back on - not doing much to illuminate things for me...my memories begin to recede - that is until I decide to trot them out and examine them once again like specimens - an archaeology of feelings, unearthed....
Tonight....
The lights went out - without warning - the lamp's bulb began to flicker and then fade to nothing - darkness...I realise no electricity *LOL* it figures - just when I am inspired to write....
So now I am writing furiously on paper to get this all down before it leaves me... writing, by the dim flames scattered around me...
My head is full of musings. I went down, just before penning this (as soon as the lights went out) to sit by the lake (I am ever thankful I live here by the water)...the dark edges of dusk, creeping in, twilight still faintly lingering - resisting the night's eventual fall.
Clouds, sparse - above the horizon like the wisps of my thoughts as they fill my head with glimpses of a past life - and - as always, trying to find the key, piece together the reason why my love suddenly went south. (Do I really want to know why? Or do I hold the key inside of me?)
The lake is stock still and dark - a glimmer of the orange-rose sunset still tinting the sky above. I see the boats lit on the water (I wish I were on one of them - out there...)- a red star peeking just above the horizon, glinting madly - reminding me to go commit this to paper...
3 days now - no sleep - delirium sets in....
My mind keeps flashing the phrase 'economy of words' but I don't know why or what it means in this instance....
Streaming consciousness...
...tonight I was taking in a meal at a restaurant, watching a couple - so obviously in love that they were crammed together seated, on the same side of a small booth - and, suddenly the memory of my love with him, of our early days comes rushing at me like a tidal wave. Of US together sitting in a booth at Tommie's in Coventry, close - as close as we could get within decency for a restaurant (and sometimes not even caring if we were being decent). I want to scream at this couple in the now - across the restaurant: "Wait! You just WAIT!!!" But why? What for?
Other memories begin jabbing at me, almost taunting me with their perfection, those stained-glass visions too beautiful to forget but now painful to reminisce about - have become somewhat surreal...not quite 'the way the story goes'.
Snatches of songs, of sights, of smells bring back the memories...I am too tired for all of this but I want to (need to?) find the clues so I can stop repeating my own shitty history...
Memories....
of an ex, an ex, and another ex...(*laughs* bitter now) musing: "A string of men in a long line with more to come???" Suddenly feeling exhausted by that thought....
One ex-lover with memories of a lifetime ago - of late teens, early 20s - his are always late summer memories; when we met. First date and he has to ask me to burn a tick off of his head (all my fault) because I teasingly knocked the ever-present suede cap off of his head onto the ground and when he put it back on his head, a tick had managed to jump into the cap and attach itself to his scalp...memories of him being just quirky enough so that I wanted to learn more, realising as I fell for him that loving him was as natural to me as breathing...memories of running off to the carnival for a season of summer with him...hints at his past - dark and abusive childhood - of finally landing in and living in the deep south - land of summer - of a chance to have a baby together - of him not wanting the baby as I did - of me having her anyhow - thinking she'd be a gift for both of us...finally memories of his sudden descent into his illness, madness and violence more sadness, fleeing his illness, taking the baby with me, glad that I had escaped, guilty that I had escaped...then the final sadness, watching the disease kill him...even more guilt...it still lingers with me even now....
New love, new memories...of again a summer, sweltering heat in Houston, Texas - big as the corn-blue sky can hold, of tentatively dating someone new - another Yankee (this one from New York) - me bineg a single mom and making memories of comfort and of stability (not so much passion), of building a future, of a shared/similar familial background (we both lost our moms at the same age); at last a safe harbour - but eventually realising - after having a second child, that I was not suppose to be more (or want to be more) than wife and mother - memories of trying to spread my wings only he wanted to keep his beautiful butterfly pinned down...memories of the anger building and resentment and finally lashing out and having the affair...all the memories of the pain and hurt I caused...
All that in order to fall in love again - madly in love; falling full force into my passion - without a safety net - the deliciousness of the affair, the taboo, sex, hot, incredible with no boundaries (I should have seen it coming then) - so blind though so in love, even till its bitter end - even now - still hurting because of this love. It's like a nagging toothache - alternating between dull and sharp (if it weren't such a pain in the ass, I'd marvel at it - and maybe I DO marvel at it...)- but then I ask myself: Does it hurt more because *I* was the one 'left', the one betrayed? Is the problem that I am now face-to-face with my own karma - my come-uppance (of my own creating?)???
Even now and then when I see him - my heart feels like it wants to be tender but then something shuts down/closes hard and he is always playing the role of infinite melancholy so well - so rehearsed - so heartbreaking - but something stops me from fully embracing this yet again - lest I get lost....
All these memories - seemingly holding the key to me - to my unraveling - I just keep searching for answers I will probably never find...
Now...
The lights are back on - not doing much to illuminate things for me...my memories begin to recede - that is until I decide to trot them out and examine them once again like specimens - an archaeology of feelings, unearthed....
2 Comments:
You're presented with a beautiful gift of a sunset in the Now, yet your mind wanders back over the pain of the Past. Is that really being fair to the sunset... or your soul?
You know what my dear....
With all due respect....
I AM comprised of MY entire life, past, present and future - and while, try as I may to obliterate the 'bad' and 'nasty' thinkgs from my past, the sorrows etc. - it's not always easy - I was writing of what this brought back to me....it's something I needed to get out...on paper....I am a writer too - what can I say....
It's not like I took the sunset for granted just because I had memories dredged up....there was no harm done to my soul by this exercise (I promise) - but I thank you as always for your continued support and concerns....
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