I'm going to a different kind of post today & I hope y'all don't read it and think - Holy Crap, Phat Mama just went Hallmark on us!
I love to write - it's my meditation, my time just for me, it's even therapeutic. I write poetry, short stories, letters to those I love and really, just whatever I'm thinking and feeling in that moment or that time in my life.
My dream is to someday be published but 1. I'm too much a wussy to try & be rejected. 2. I'm too lazy to actually send anything off. 3. I read a lot & can see true talent - I'm not it! lol
So now and then, here on my blog, I'm going to share some of that writing. I hope y'all enjoy it or can even relate in some way. If not.. pretend you do & leave comments saying, "Wow, P Mama, you are amazing!" That way, I can happily scarf down my Cheez-Its and princess wave to y'all.
Everything will be obscure and off balance until you return to me. What was important is meaningless. My eyes glaze over from watching this screen. I'd rather close my eyes and see your laughing face reflected from memory. I keep sniffing the air but your scent left with you. I dread our bed because it's cold, lonely and to big. Is it pathetic that I bury my face in your pillow to catch that last tantalizing whiff of lingering cologne?
I roam around this house, lost. You would swear it's a fifty room mansion the way I lose myself from room to room. I think I'm looking for you on some base level of my being. I watch the door, the sundown is mesmerizing thru the panes of glass. I would give up a weeks worth of sundowns to see you walk through it. Missing you is always hardest at this hour, when your arms would reach for me in sleep, tug me close until I fit in your embrace like I was created to be there.
Don't you know that you own my soul, my heart, my every memory? Yes, I think you do know. Maybe that's why you reach out to touch me at every oppurtunity. Fate can be cruel but sometimes it brings two lives together to form one. Every song that I listen to tries to describe love. There are no words, not those and not these I write tonight.
A lifetime of little moments that would never fit into any scrapbook. I wish I could write our love story but those words wouldn't be good enough either. How do we tell our children, how do we share with them this incredible history, the fragments of life and emotion?
How can I show them the completeness of their parents? I want to do that, you know. I want them to see it all and take it with them, long after we are gone. Love like ours is rare in this chaotic reality. To stand the test of time, to walk through each tragedy and triumph, hand in hand, is a little piece of miracle.
How is it possible to fall in love with the same person with each new dawn? How can I sit here with you so far away and feel tears of loneliness and blissful love slide down my cheeks? When I leave this plane of existence where eveything and everyone is less than perfect, where I cry and laugh and live with my imperfection.. if I leave it tomorrow, I just want to know that I loved you best. I just want to know that you felt it this deep.
Maybe these words are coming from that lonely place that will only be full again when you come home. Maybe it's dramatic, emotional. And maybe, someday our kids will go through some papers in an old box and find this and know the completeness of their parents and take it with them, long after we are gone.
...and in the end
5 years ago