Coming Here When You're Already There

she saw him and was instantly intrigued as these people seemed a different energy than the nervous americans trying to be cool that always populate this place.  they were chill and open and we talked of abortion, the beatles, being a king, the pixies, and played pool.  I thought it was someone who I could grab hands with and soar to adventure.


And I desperately wanted to capitalize on the feeling of universal goodwill upon knowing that I did not want to die.


So I played and fished and fell in engagement.  
Truly the night drifted away into different drama -
it was new year's eve - and the next morning, I had no coat nor keys and had to wait until five o'clock to get all of my accoutrements and by the grace of something, they were all perfectly intact


i check my messages and actually REMEMBER the man that i had proposed marriage to and played pool with and sung the pixies with.
He had called twice.  I pondered this move, and I reaffirmed the connection and called him
he had never said goodbye but i had written my number in sharpie on his arm
or i should have written it on his arm - his hand was what i chose.


he came over and never left.
we loved each other so intensely it made grace cry
it made my love cry
it made me cry
i said and meant to him, "when you are around, it feels as if the world is real again."


He had nothing to do and nowhere to go, and I was fine with that as I'd been on that boat myself.  i wasn't as kind as i could have been because then it started to be a war... and we were not on the same side.


a householdwar


battle all the time.  sky is blue. sky is BEIGE.
that type of thing
He would grandly and eloquently argue to me about the validity of the law of cause and effect, and i would say "i got it, but what are you saying to me?  what is the point of your really telling me these abc's?"


his back would hurt.
he would be tired
no amount of care would help
and the symptoms were very vague
depression
leaping to try and save him


all the time my own psyche is drowning and has no feeding
result is disaster


things like the horsehead in glass the mural of the boys in the middle.  the beautiful human being he is... his baby photo
they make me turn into an angel of vengeance in his honor
but it doesn't make me get up off of my ass and start participating in meet up dot coms or join a circus
partner and motivation


that's what i thought he was.  he does it before and after me... that grand awesomeness of his where he becomes a poet of daring me me me.
and me
sitting here again and just thinking it's such a waste but having not one clue of step one
faith