Tuesday, 24 February 2015

Journal # 02.24.15

A chance. Lives are lost in confusion. A helpless feeling anticipates a real chance for a lot of happiness. Wouldn't you want to make someone smile if you could? Textbook.Very simple. Be kind and helpful and selfless.

 Life is never textbook. Quite the contrary. I once enjoyed the sensation of a man's eyes on me. I was younger. I wanted eyes on me. Life happened and I crossed over somewhere. But to see someone's eyes light up like that! In a dreary working existence, in a seaside working-class town? To know I had a part in it. The smile that followed suit. The expressions. The flowers and friendship, listening and sharing, the efforts to understand you. And a boundary line drawn clear. I drew it between you and me. You saw it. I made myself clear. I know I did. You made sure I knew how much you respected me for it. I thought we had a spectacular friendship. Textbook.

Life is never textbook. I gave freely something you said you needed. You surprised me. Some fantastic extraordinary attentiveness! You found the place where my story was bookmarked. Where I could not go on until an obstacle was removed from my path. You removed it! Often without telling me. Suddenly there's a bike light, so I can ride safely to an important destination. A key, so I can open a particular door. An opportunity. Out there in the wilderness you found a name, or address, or a phone number. A pen, so I could write it all down.

All was really well for a while. Sunshine giving the cool morning dew a chance to sublimate and fly.

But what when the morning was frost, and the sun hidden? What then? A hanging fog. The dew drops fall into the earth, and are swallowed by darkness. The sea at night becomes swollen and dark, and all the eyes in the world are shut tight, except yours. And yours, once so full of light, got avarice and grew a monster. A monster behind the eyes. Devoid of feeling. The eyes became a body and the body became intoxicated, and turned a friend into an enemy and took me...

Maybe that was the moment I crossed over. Maybe. Only I say maybe because nothing feels certain anymore. When you took me without asking. Much later, after great and poisonous bouts of ferocity and trembling, I discovered maybe I could still love. I don't know how, but thank God. Thank God I can still love maybe.