There was a time not so long ago when he was certain she would listen to this song and picture him, but now he wasn’t convinced.
It wasn’t because he didn’t think she loved him anymore but because he wasn’t convinced she was willing to take a real chance on something that might be difficult and complicated.
Inertia.
That is what he thought was the biggest issue.
Inertia made it appear to be easier to stay in place where you knew and know what you have in hand based upon the past and fragments of the present.
Hell, inertia was probably part of what had tripped him up way back when, but it wasn’t as much of an issue now because he had lost almost everything and been forced to rebuild.
That changed him, especially the overwhelming sense that he had no support other than himself.
Some people would be upset to hear him say so, but it is how he often felt and he had no reason to argue with people about feelings because they aren’t based upon logic, reason or reality.
They are just feelings.
What was different now was as simple as age and time and complex as a lack of a crystal ball could make trying to predict the future.
So he walked one step at a time, told himself if he got an opportunity he would explore it and if he didn’t, well that would open other opportunities.
He knew those three words would either make her shake her head in disgust or smile.
Because what is old is new and what is forgotten…familiar.
So we turn on the music and know it says everything.
Once More Into The Breach
He stared at his reflection and wondered how he could be so very different and yet so very much the same.
Wondered if she would stand before him and let the walls down or if they would be torn down regardless of choice as he felt them being done to him.
It wasn’t because a lack of choice because he could push back and keep them standing, but something about that seemed wrong.
Something about it made him certain it would lead to regret and that once more into the breach was where he needed to go.
Can’t find answers or heal the broken parts and pieces without taking chances.
Forward, always forward.
He held out his hand in silence and waited to see if fingers found his for this journey required another because there was no way only one could open the gates and see what lies upon the other side.
So he offered his hand, waited and remembered the days in which they carried each other.
Stared at a place none could see at the empty throne room, two chairs left as they were when last used, ready to be shared again.
The man stood in his backyard, cup of coffee in hand under deep blue skies and thought about the last almost 20 years of life.
Wondered if the woman cross town was thinking about him simultaneously and if she was intentionally staying busy so that her mind didn’t wander.
He thought about days passed and conversations about the kids they would have together and what life would look like.
Thought about how life had moved on and so had they…mostly.
Remembered when she had told him she just wanted to spend time with him and when she had said she wasn’t sure if that would come to be, because it wouldn’t be available until they were 50.
“You won’t want me when I am 50. I know how men are.”
“You ‘know’ how men are in their late thirties or so, but fifties, maybe not so much.
Now they were both in that fifth decade and things were different in a million ways but in some, maybe not so much.
Give Me Your Hand
They shared more than a few moments and walked apart and alone through many of the years in between the time that was and the time that is.
When they finally had their first meal alone again he paid close attention to all she did and said.
Because every time they reconnected he felt something and he didn’t always trust himself not to be taken in by nostalgia and sentimentality.
Life had made him so very hard and he had helped that along because he felt the need to make his skin tougher and thicker.
More than a few people had accused him of being unfeeling and he wondered if they were really that blind or if he had really gone that cold.
Towards the end of their meal he had moved from his side to hers and told her to slide over.
Her eyes grew wide and were joined by a huge smile that he didn’t think she was aware of. It was natural and it was familiar.
“Give me your hand.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and he just took it in his.
It felt as natural as it ever did and instantly he was certain all of his thoughts and suspicions about possibilities were true.
Thinking about it was bittersweet, because he knew it didn’t matter what he thought, it takes two and there was always the chance there would never be an exploration of possibility.
He intentionally didn’t say anything because his gut said this was a time to wait and live life as if nothing had changed.
So he did, promising himself that he wouldn’t put life on hold nor would he let pride make him blind.
Still he told her that he wondered if the electric charge they felt when they kissed was still there and that a good scientist did more than just hypothesize.
As he took his final sip of coffee he remembered a conversation where she said she would be with him but would never get married again.
“That is what you say today, but I don’t believe it.
The moment something happens that makes you think getting married is the practical and logical thing to do you’ll be yelling at me to get a marriage license and work upon making whatever plans are required.
It will all happen in a blink and if I question you I’ll hear about how you are the practical one and I should just listen.”
She laughed and said it might be true.
*****
Under the bright blue sky everything and anything seemed possible.
She could wake up one day, call him and tell him it was time to get off of his ass and start moving or just as easily tell him to get lost.
Sometimes he wondered if the girl who claimed she would never say ‘I love you first” was just waiting for him to say something and sometimes he wondered if she was relieved he didn’t.
At the moment it was all just speculative as life had decided he was going to have to plow the fields by hand.
So he put the harness on either shoulder and slowly started walking forward dragging 500 pounds of metal through the fields.
When he got to the first rock he screamed and cursed and hoped he didn’t hurt himself as he forced the plow forward.
“This was easier when we I was younger, but when we are fifty now…”
Slowly but surely he got it moving again, forward progress resumed, forwards, always forwards.
I told her long ago we could have the fairytale and we did until we didn’t.
Had it all, lost it, got it back and now we exist in a place between was and could be never knowing exactly what to say or do with it.
Fear and uncertainty is to blame for choking off the oxygen that fed the fire between us but experience has proven time and time again that embers exist.
Embers that could be doused in arctic seawater and still find a way to generate heat again.
Except those twins, fear and uncertainty still roam the halls sharing whispers about circumstances and timing.
From within the shadows they feed upon doubt and push an agenda called insecurity but there is a different voice that occasionally rises to the surface.
Hope he/she is called and their message is the eternal, “hang in, the best is yet to come.”
So we walk parallel paths and focus on the bumps and potholes in the road in front of us.
Still there is another voice from the depths calling out, ‘dare to love and to be loved.’
Sometimes he turns a corner and expects to see here standing there or behind the wheel of a car nearby.
This roller coaster is one hell of a ride, never know when it will stop long enough for passengers to share the car with you or if they will just wave as you ride by.
Words Left Unwritten 