Strange Song Sighing

I never thought time would bring me to this. A half way point. As it is, Iím hollow. Events, appointments, fillers bounce off of me and reverberate. Iím a drum, I am stationary, everything else is moving towards a focal point. You.

Iím listening to Roger Kellaway. The song is wistful, pleasant. But the notes get trapped in my head, they echo and build on top of each other until itís painful. I sink deeper into the hot water and block them out. The music changes to George Winston and the notes start to ripple faster along a chord into my chest. I turn the music off and leave the bath, my skin is red, my eyes are so blue.

There are bad days, weeks, months, minutes. There are moments when the house fools me. It makes its noises and for some reason I think youíre in the other room. I could be standing in our kitchen, washing a plate, and I hear a creak in the office. I think youíre standing there looking for a book or a CD or some other object that I mustíve placed in that room on a whim. But youíre not there and I remember that in another moment. Then the timer goes off and I remember Itís time to eat. I reset the timer so that in another five hours I remember again.

Oh, to hear your voice. To know youíre face. You say ďLook outside, love, weíre under the same moon.Ē and I feel like Iím about to break and run back together like mercury. There is no one in this world that sees the best and worst of me like you do and without you I know I will change into something else, something unlike, something without.

I work one job and go to school. I work another job and go home. Too much. I cut the days in half and lay them aside. As time goes on, Iíd rather have the quiet of the empty rooms of our house, the best moments to miss you.

In these moments I find myself lying in a valley, on top of the snow, under the moon, in a mountainís shadow. I see you across the sky lying beside me on a blanket of sand, in the desert, under the sun. I reach across the white as you reach across the red and our fingers touch in half a heartbeat, half a world away, half a day ahead. I clench at your hand and I see us, in moments, when we laugh, when we fight, when we love, when we cry. Oh, my love, my friend, my husband, my soulmate. Through the salt of my sweat and my tears, the fire of my blood, and the breath in my lungs I have pledged myself to you and in this we are never apart.

I wander through our house listening to Aeoliah Follow Your Heart and I sing songs for you. The hollowness, my body, aches and in a strange way itís a celebration, a declaration, of devotion. I fill the rooms, the walls, with this song until our house, this home, is saturated with the notes of my heart tied with yours. I take out the rope that tied our hands together and I braid it into my hair. I sit in front of my alter and pray. The gold on my finger grows hot and then cold and I wonder if you feel it too. I know sometimes you do, that a feeling comes over you strangely and you have to give pause to it.

We have so much now. Friends that love us, family to cherish us. There is so much now that wasnít before that will fill us as we grow older. There is so much we are that few can claim to have. Together we are whole, apart we are whole. You, Me, We.

And as I wait for this trial to pass, I hold myself together consciously so that I donít fall apart. I keep your promise walled inside and I breathe your memory, my lips tingle, my body flushes, my mind soars. Let the wind carry my verses to you, let the sea sing my songs. Let me know you love me and I will carry on.

I love you. I love you. I do.

© Jacqueline Hoffman 2008

to be continuted

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