Archive for May, 2012


17 years

In these days of reflective heartache, I am wistful for the simpler days, before my world became so complicated. There was a time of splendid isolation that kept me safe. I was always a solitary soul, very adept at being alone. Keeping company with very few, but they were my constant, and they were all I needed. Fears of the world we live in and life in general kept me on the fringes, where I was somewhat comfortable.

I wasn’t unhappy, not lonely, just woefully awkward. Bound in routine, everything in its place, and a place for everything, I carved out a gentle existance. Keeping a safe distance allowed for twilight strolls, random evening drives with music as my copilot, long nights of writing and happy suppers with the few I dared to care about.

The dearest of them all was Ian, my best friend. We were a riot of a whirlwind, not a moment was mundane or insignificant, we made it all count. We radiated and glowed, a glorious bundle of laughter and love. Together we grew up and grew into ourselves, with him, I found what it was to truly be friends, to trust, and to love, and to be loved. No amount of tears or fears could have ever kept my heart from growing so large with love and admiration.

For a good many years, my every day life included him and our endless shenanigans.  Both dreamers, we believed in each other in ways most never dare. In him, I found strength, love does that you know. And together we made the world shimmer with anticipation. I suppose when you are young, you look about during a moment of delicious perfection, and believe with all your heart that this is how your life is always going to be. For so long, we felt that to be a simple fact.

We had 17 years of loving one another ferociously, time and distance held nothing on our hearts. East and West coast, we cared not, for we knew that we always had one another. Failed relationships, careers and artistic endevours, they meant nary a thing, for we were always each others biggest fans, he made me feel as if no matter what, that I had always grabbed the brass ring. 17 years sounds like a large number, but it isn’t, for me, now, it is far too small, for I was so certain that we had an eternity, and then some.

I got the news on a Monday morning, and I always say, good news always sleeps until noon, I know this to be true. Ian had gone from sleep to take the dirt nap in the bone orchard, and as I screamed and cried and vomited, I was certain that before the  longest day were to come to an end, that I too would die, from a broken heart. The news spread across the continent, and I felt many other hearts lurch in grief.  I was surprised the world didn’t drown for all the tears that were shed. And I hated the world around me for going on as if nothing had happened. I wanted to scream to strangers smiling, throttle the birds for singing and shoot the sun from the sky for being so viscious and cruel to be shining. I wanted to smash things, beat my fists till they were bloody and make something, anything, hurt worse than I. My grief was so large and selfish, but to me,at the time, it was a testimony of this deep undying love, and the enormous hole in my shattered soul.The tight grip that took hold of me held me low to the ground, unable to truly breath, waking from my scant slumbers awash in tears and sweat, finding claw marks upon my shoulders, where my hands dug in tightly in the attempt to hold myself together. Each day was a new flavor of suck, and they dragged on, taunting me. I hate how hard it was for me to see past my own sorrow and properly console the countless others who ached just as terribly.

We all scrambled to find all the many who knew and loved him, to share the terrible news, to wrap our arms around one another as our legs buckled, and to hold dear to the spirit of this fine man.  It was here that I came to see how his love had formed me, how he gave me a glorious map of friendship to take forward. To be aware of the very many friends who worried so dearly for me, wanting to some how quell this endless agony, I was humbled. I had some how become something other than the frightened mouse that kept all at a continents length. Through Ian, I shed that old lizard skin, and become rather human. He often marveled at this, chuckling with delight to know I now had a full dance card, and to know he still yet had the top slot. I never saw it happening, how one persons love for me could spill over and out of my soul till I found myself awash in a vast sea of fully formed friendships. He always gave the most grand gifts.

Two days ago, I placed a daisy next to his ashes, for daisies were his way of saying I love you to me. And that daisy was entombed with him, for you see, try as I had, I was not able to keep him here with me, safe, as I so arrogantly assumed, but I was with him, forever.

I feel him with me, in every moment, in song and sunrise, in quiet and moon glow. The gentle grace of his love will carry me through, till the sound of his whisper in my ear, “sweetheart” is no longer a figment of my imagination, but that which shall bring me from here to there, where he surely awaits, so that we may one day be together, to play cards with Audrey Hepburn in heaven.

Never to have thought this day to come

One above and one below

Perhaps to never reconcile complete

This enormous wound of you

As I fold into my grief

I dare never whisper goodbye

To the one who taught me hello

Hands held, searching for human comfort

In a time of celebration and sorrow

You breezed through my heart

To them materialize

A butterfly through stained glass windows

A whisp of hope through tears

A promise of life, even after passing

You came to flit amongst those who gathered

To comfort

As you always have

And forever shall

You are my heart of hearts

The giving tree

And I have been told

It shall never get better

But different

And I have no say in this matter

Though I promise, my love

To live enough

For us both

Two homes, one week

I tore viscious white light to both the North and South

My Nourthern Nest,

The one that brought me first sanctuary

When I was to young to understand the magnitude

Yet there I stood

Finding strength on a tiny Island when I was most broken

All those many years ago

Before I knew the faintest of the world we live in and life in general

To be so green, yet still so broken beyond my years

It was here, my first sanctuary,

That I found myself able to to no longer hold my breath

Sea salt, and low clouds brought me the renewal I hadn’t dared dream

And closure to that I had never dared hope.

My Southern nest,

That is yet a most delightful song

Sung in my heart

Truer than the purest factions of my soul

For here, I am safe

The Southern nest is where heart and soul find solitude

And weary bones may rest

Amongst love

Never to have dreamed to bounce from one to the other

Yet, some dreams undreamt may come to fruition

But only if you want and desire it enough

And if you open ones self to the call of the Universe

Such great fortune have I

To have two nests, and one complete heart

Lucky lil Hummingbird am I

Wendy blinked, wondering if Tink were playing some fairy magic trickery upon her eyes. But no, there he was, the genuine Peter Pan, looking just as stunned as she! Did she not come here, to her other Neverland to attempt to mend her fatally wounded heart?!? How could her fractured soul comprehend this addition to her sorrowful adventure?

He was the first, others came to be known as Peter as the years accumulated, but it was he who showed her all that was wonderful and terrible at such a tender age. He was her original Moon Man, the one who showed her that she could in fact, fly about the moon and stars and fall so hopelessly in love with them for all of eternity. He dared her to dream, and in return, she dared him to love. And for so long, they left a trail of luminous fairy dust in their wake. They dreamed awake and out loud, together, and played amongst his Lost Boys whom he had gifted her as another family. Too delirious with delight to even consider the dark demise that awaited them, never knowing how long they would wander and wonder if the other were still somewhere to perhaps be found again.

There came a terrible tragedy, one too painful to speak out loud, and Wendy did something that not only broke Peters heart, but hers as well, she ran away from Neverland, silently, and found a suitable place to stop running, even if it were for but a short time. When she had secluded herself upon a tiny island, she would  force away her thoughts of him, never knowing that this would only leave her window open for others like him to come at night, with glimmering promises and fly off with her, only to find herself falling away, always. And she kept their story from all she knew, never wishing to perhaps conjure him lest she should utter his name.

And so they stood, gazing wordlessly at one another, never to have guessed this to happen, here, her other Neverland, of all places!!! Then he smiled, and she heard herself exhale. Fear melted away, words were formed, and the years fell away from their faces and frames, to be transformed to their younger, unscared selves. There was no sound of a clock ticking in a crocodiles belly, no stomping of Hook, just quiet delight.

Soon, their words fell into step with their feet, walking and talking, telling one another of what the many years had brought to them, and the unscathed fascination with the contents of the world dripped over them. All too soon, the hour had grown so very late, and Wendy surprised herself something ferocious, she spoke. She spoke of that which tore them asunder, she had a terrible urgency to atone for her sins, and as it would be, Peter felt much the same. Had truer words and apologies ever been spoken in any faction of Neverland? She doubted it enormously. This burden from half a lifetime ago fell away, being merely bits of grey dust as settled upon the ground, where they left it.

By now, you , the reader of this fine tale, must have surely concluded that Wendy and Peter were then to fly away, together, back to their land of splendid magic, and in other story, yes that very well would have been the case, but no, not now. Perhaps some silent portion in each of their hearts would gladly have lept at such a chance given by the angels, but they both knew it was not the way their story was going to have to end.

In the end, at least the end of this portion of this particular chapter, Peter was ever the gentleman, helping her steady her feet upon the pirate ship that would take her back, but not before he placed precious gems about her wrist, cuffing her to him in some small way forever. And as the boat were to depart, she turned towards the sun, called out to him, her moon, and said what she had never said before,…..

goodbye

As Clementine had always been snarky in her suspicions, she had been acutely aware that no matter where she went, there she was, getting in her own way! However, this time, instead of the ever present fear of being pinched by the brass, it all took a turn for the more interesting.

She had run away from home for the first time 20 years ago, and precisely 20 years to the very date, she did the very same. For on this day, she ran away from home in order to go home,the same home as she had found herself all those ragged torn years back. Back then, she had ran away from the raw pain of a terrible mistake she never could speak aloud . It was the first time she had willingly broken her own heart, out of childish fear.

And this time, much like the first, she took flight in the hours before sun up, and just like then, her heart lept madly as the ferry brought her to her first glimpse of the island. And she was still yet startled, kindly,by the low, mournful bleating of the ferry horn, the sound matching the same muted shades of grey that doted the landscape and sky.

Funny how her boots never allowed for her to stay truly steady upon the cobblestone. The day was grey and slightly damp, causing her hair to curl curiously. Her hands still yer shook from the deep sorrow that nestled in her rattled soul, from when she had received the news that her most beloved had slipped away during the night, to go take a dirt nap in the bone orchard. So when her hand fumbled slightly withthe door handle, she silently cursed the too little sleep and too much whiskey, but as her eyes met his cool blue gaze, beyond surprised, she realized it was because she had felt it that entire day. He was here, 20 years later, looking just as she had when she skipped town like a school girl. She was quickly reduced to the same stumbling, bumbling mouse she had been when they were young and had been lovers. All the swagger drained from her, she forgot to be scathing and haughty, Stark emotional nudity had long since gone by the wayside, yet, here it roosted, as they dared not blink in disbelief. They uttered halting greetings to one another, and she blathered something immediately forgotten and raced up the stairs. As she closed the door to her room, she sat heavily upon the bed and finally remembered to exhale.

She cursed her wander lust silently and hurled silent accusations at her boots. Could this have been the reason for the tremendous sense of urgency she felt to come here? Why after 20 years did she have to come here THIS particular day?!? Was she meant to reconcile something from so long back so that she could perhaps move forward now?? Did the Universe demand that she atone for her first sin, to make right her wrong? A certain sage had reminded her that very morning that things do not happen for no reason, only now did Clementine realize that is was no joke, yet it was on her.

She cocked her head slightly to one side, as if to try to decipher the blaring message the universe was screaming at her, and she waited, and listened harder,

And then there was a knock upon her door