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With baited breath...

Circles. Patterns. Three years disconnected. How do you put your life into words without containing every bit into a compartment? Make it all legible, coherent to those involved. Leave out the time lines and the details. Make it as vague as possible.

Cut the part where you feel left and abandoned by fate, and destiny, and all of the hocus pocus bullshit that runs your life. Leave out the details.

I�m leaving as scared of my life as possible. It would have been so easy to keep it up. It would have been so easy to lie, and cry, and lie again. It would have been so easy to take a ticket to any where but here.

I was a grown up. I was mature, and in this I am so proud of myself, for realizing what I want. For knowing that this was just a taste of happiness for both of us, but that we couldn�t continue to devour each other, there would have been nothing left. And we both saw this.

It doesn�t mean that I�m not crying now more than I would have before, because I�ve always said it�s harder to live with knowing than to live in ignorance.

Friday saw me surprised.

Saturday saw me hysterical.

Sunday saw me in calm and happy.

Today sees the mess I am.

I�m not saying this to throw him on the pile of men that have watched me get undressed in half light. I�m saying this because as walked out of the airport, I saw the sky, and the sky is always blue. He is of another place that I will never know... he is of the same place my husband is. I saw the same road. This time I took a different turn. I took the turn I should have taken three years ago.

And in all of this circles have been closed. Threes have been counted to three and finished.

My beauty lies in something that will never be looked upon by your eyes. Now I have someone who knows what my bed feels like, where my porch is, how my cat meows, what my toes taste like. He�s watched my tattoos move, and my face grin in an early morning light.

At no point in time will I regret letting him into my heart. He knows he couldn�t keep it.

This will be worth all of the pain it will cause.

. . .

And so there is but one piece missing to my drama. That is someone coming back to me. I don�t know who it is, and I�m afraid of seeing this, as I want it to be closed and it can�t be. Until that phone call comes, until that email is in my inbox, until that car pulls in front of my house.

What frightens me more is the reality that it will not happen. That a month will be spent walking on my toes, based on premonition. Quietly waiting for the other shoe to drop on my roof.

Nothing will happen, because I want it so badly it scares me.

3:02 p.m. - 2002-11-11


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