The Moment

-
I stopped. Breathing. Moving. Thinking. She was beautiful. Absolutely, painfully, exquisitely beautiful. God, it hurt. How could it be? How could she do this? Be this way? Make me feel this way? Without even knowing her name or a thing about her. Spellbound. Numb. Tortured. Done. That moment. The Moment. Our eyes met, but only for a second. I looked away. A fight for breath. Breathe, dammit, breathe. I looked back. She was gone.

Would I ever recover? Did I want to? I wanted the pain of her. Wanted it. The scar. The beauty. I didn't need her name or her birth date. Just the dull ache of her beauty. I knew I could look forever and never find her, but every breath, every painful searching breath, would remind me. Exquistely. Painfully. Absolutely. And I would never be the same.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Biggest Fan

-
It comes for all of us. If we're lucky. Right now, I'm not sure I feel lucky, but I know in the days, weeks, months, and years to come, I will come to realize that I am. Or I was. My parents are elderly, eighty-four and ninety-two. From where I'm sitting at the moment - my mother's hospital room - it's doubtful that my mom will reach tomorrow, much less eighty-five, So here I sit. And write...while  my biggest fan lays a few feet away snoring like a freight train. Her snores mean she's still alive so rather than drowning them out with music, I listen, Intently. Because each one could be her last. It's the drugs - her pain was pretty severe - making her sleep so soundly. These same drugs, the ones that keep the pain at bay, may also hasten her death. Her decision. She's been kicking cancer's a** for the past seven years. My mom's no sissy; she can endure. But this isn't the cancer, the known quantity. This is an aneurysm, a ticking time bomb
Read more

Be That Person

-
 A friend texted me last night. Her almost twelve year old son is starting middle school today and she was more than a little stressed. I guess it's somewhat normal for parents to be nervous about such milestones in their children's lives. I mean sixth grade means a bigger school, perhaps switching classrooms, more complex homework assignments, etc, etc. I'm sure there's also some wistfulness about the whole thing. The "My baby's growing up" kinda thing. My friend's concerns last night (and again this morning) were far larger. You see, her son is different. He always has been. Not only is he on "the spectrum," he also has Tourettte's. And he's on the fringes of non-binary. Plus, he lives on the border of Texas and Arkansas in a place that is far from open-minded and falls just below marginally accepting. This is the land of conservative politics (ie Trump), gun rights, big religion, and the concomitant "family values" that i
Read more

A Little Unsteady

-
"Hold onto me...cuz I'm a little unsteady..." It's the first song that popped up on Pandora tonight. Kismet? Serendipity? I don't know. I had another opening line all picked out (and I'm sure I'll get to it in a bit), but sometimes...sometimes the Universe has other plans. Other ideas. Other directions. And often it's right. Absolutely, perfect right. Like tonight...today...all of it... I was unsteady. I am unsteady. For the first time nearly five years. Five years . This, of course, isn't a lying, narcissistic girlfriend or a bad break up of any kind. And for that I am thankful (Not that I couldn't use a nifty stint on the Break Up Diet). In many ways, it's something worse. Much, much worse. I'm being pulled in two directions, veritably (though not literally...physically speaking anyway) torn in two. It's not news that I'm moving to Las Vegas next month. In fact, I leave one month from today with the first load of my life.
Read more