Nothing Makes Sense

He was somewhere between Whiskey Lullaby and Ho Hey heading towards trying to find some 70s or classic rock piece that would help make sense of things when the images flashed through his head.

They were lying in bed together, on their left sides, spooning, “where are you? Come closer?”

He smiled and acquiesed.

“I need to feel you against me, your arms around me.”

“They are always there, even when I am not.”

He wrapped her fingers in his and pulled their hands up, kissed it and sighed.


She asked him why he kept staring and he told her she was beautiful and that he couldn’t get enough of her.

“I have to warn you, I don’t think I can stop touching you.”

She smiled and told him it didn’t matter, “you have all of me forever and I’ll never say no to you.”


There were other images, flashes of memories where she told him she’d never forgive him for not finding her sooner and his words, “you know I’d fight the armies of hell and whomever else got in my way to get back to you. Sounds kind of ridiculous and stalkerish, doesn’t it.”

She just smiled and kissed him.


He looked up at the sky and smiled back at the sun he figured was smiling down upon him.

“People say things and they change their mind. Sometimes they don’t mean it and sometimes they do. People fall in and out of love. Sometimes they love the wrong person or have love at the wrong time and you just have to move on.”

He waited for lightning to strike the earth, the sound of angelic trumpets or some sort of divine response to his comment but heard nothing and shrugged his shoulders and kept walking.

“You did your best, all that you could do and it didn’t work the way you hoped. There is no shame in that.”

This time his words were met with the sound of a large truck rolling past him on the highway.

It didn’t stop and neither did he.

He figured he had walked about three miles or so from where his car had broken down and that he probably had another four to go before he would come upon civilization.

It was fitting, the car breaking down like that. Everything about his old life was crumbling around him and he took that as a sign that he was supposed to let go of it all.

Everything about his old life was crumbling around him and he took that as a sign that he was supposed to let go of it all.

Let go of what was and try not to make himself crazy asking questions of people that weren’t around to speak and or might not be honest with what they had to say.

Part of him preferred it that way because he was really angry and didn’t trust himself not to unload upon them.

And part of him feared that if he got the opportunity the anger would drain away and instead of yelling he would mumble something about how desperately he wanted to tell them what was really going on, about how he didn’t know how he kept going and he didn’t want to be vulnerable like that.

It was easier to be silent and to keep pushing forward.

“It sounds like life is a mess and in some ways it is, but fuck, it is getting really close to being really great too. I am just faking it all, like everyone else.”

A little bit further down the road he found a semi-deflated ball and started kicking it.

Dancing around it like a professional soccer player, he feinted left and then went right.


That was how he entertained himself the next few miles and then he came upon a little gas station with a store where the lady behind the counter sold him a Coke and said that “god loved him.”

He just nodded his head and she told him not to worry because god would take care of him and his family.

And then he got another flash and memories showed up again.


“We’re family now, inextricably connected forever.”

“That’s what you said then, but not how you are acting now. Now I am just a stranger, someone you once knew. I told you I could walk away and that I would. You said you would never let me, but you pushed me away.

I didn’t know whether to believe, fight or ignore you so I stayed silent and just set about living my life. Figured you were the biggest surprise of my life and that if things are/were meant to be they would change and if not, well it made for mostly good memories”

Again there were no responses from the sky, no claps of thunder or angels in the road.

So he kept walking, occasionally pausing to take another sip. The tow truck driver had offered to meet him at the station and drive him back to the car but he had said no.

The tow truck driver had offered to meet him at the station and drive him back to the car but he had said no.

He liked walking. It helped clear his head and he used the time to start mapping out how to take care of the projects he had.

There was furniture to build and a list of tools and supplies to be made. Alongside the furniture there was an old car, a ’67 Camaro that he could rebuild and restore or just junk.

The car was a serious project. It was the kind of thing he loved and could get lost in, but it was also the kind of thing that could suck money out of his wallet in a hurry.

But that wasn’t necessarily enough of a reason not to take it on. It required thought and time working with his hands and would provide a serious sense of accomplishment.

That was the kind of reward you couldn’t get any other way and he loved the way it felt to work for something worthwhile.

Back at the car he found the tow truck driver waiting for him.

“Did you have all four tires when you left the car?”


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Walk Away

Sometimes the best and smartest thing to do is walk away.

Don’t look back, don’t turn your head and don’t ask questions. Just walk from the present into the future.

The past is behind you for a reason and anyone who doesn’t come forward with you is missing out.

It is not your job to worry or wonder about them. Just walk away and let go.

Better things are ahead.

He read the note and smiled, remembering having written it.

It was the rule he lived by and it had very few exceptions. The older he got, the easier it was to follow.

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Thaw Out

He told her he missed her in 83,168 ways and wondered how long it would take her to thaw out.

Said that he wanted to be close again and knew he might get shot in the gut or kicked in the balls again.

But did it because he made a promise to her many years before to put that kind of effort in.

Wondered if she ever believed he could really disappear or what she would do if he got hit by a bus, train or if his ship was sunk by a submarine.

Nothing like asking questions that you are unlikely to get answered is there,

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Wooing The Damn Woman

Oh yeah, all right
Are you going to be in my dreams
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make

Sometimes he called her “the damn woman” and wondered how the hell they had reached this place.

They had spent years promising the world to each other, madly in love and determined to make it work regardless of the hurdles and complications.

And when they hadn’t been declaring their love and asking how they could be addicted to another they had pretended that there were no feelings left.

Just ask them and they’ll tell you about they had moved on and never looked back except their actions made it look like they belonged in a romantic comedy.

You know the thing where the man and woman work extra hard to ignore the other person and twice as hard to make sure they knew everything that was going on in the other person’s life.

In the movies they always ended up back together, always shared some magic moment where they declared their undying love.


The quote made him laugh because it was true.

She was crazy and he was stupid but whether it was because of or in spite of the other he never could decide.

John, Paul, George and Ringo were onto something because he never did know if she would show up in his dreams.

It wasn’t common but it wasn’t all that unusual either.

Most of the time when it happened it was so real he would wake up swearing he could smell and or touch her.

He’d roll over and expect that she would come out of the bathroom or kitchen and climb back into bed with him.

Once not so long ago she told him she had never loved another so deeply and strongly as she had loved him and that it scared her and that was why she stayed away.

He didn’t know what to do with it, could be true, could be false.

If he held her in his arms and looked in her eyes he might know, or might get lost.

That damn woman made him crazy and stupid or maybe he was already such things. Given he was already juggling chainsaws and torches it was hard to have perspective.

Just had to manage things a little bit longer and he would find more peace and more peace of mind.

He was so damn close, just a few more steps, just a little bit longer.

As he walked through the night he sang the words softly again and appreciated the obvious truth within.,

Oh yeah, all right
Are you going to be in my dreams
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make

It is always about the love you make.

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Her Place

He thought about calling her and telling her he was sick of this shit. She needed to be put in her place,

Needed to submit and be dominated. Needed two hands in her hair and to resume her role as his partner because they both would be happier.

Couldn’t say for certain why he hadn’t done it, whether it was because he feared rejection or thought it was going to just happen anyhow.

They were on their second decade and whatever it was there was something deep and powerful.

Maybe it scared both of them because there was a sense that a tsunami of emotion could take them away.

Come to think of it, that wasn’t out of the question because they had been there, addicted to each other.

Best friends and lovers.

It could happen again and the question was more about whether it would/would not be because of luck/circumstance or if destiny was real.

Either way the idea of having her wrapped around him or wrapped in his arms made him smile in a way that was both uncomfortable and familiar.

Not uncomfortable because it was bad, but because sometimes you just know.

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Searching For A Shmata

Smarter people than I don’t spend any time wondering, worrying or thinking about what they think they know or feel.

They focus upon what they can see, taste and touch in the most literal sense of those things.

If you can touch, taste or see it, well you know what is or is not real.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream
I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam
And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem
But if I know you, I know what you’ll do
You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream
Once Upon A Dream– Lana Del Rey ( Maleficent)

I hear it playing in my head as one of a multitude of songs and poems and try to ignore it.

Wrap myself in the safety and security of the tactile and concrete aspects of life because it provides more control and I crave that.

Crave it because other things are spinning in ways I can’t stop and it frightens me a bit.

But part of me likes the fear and chases the flame because it feels appropriate and right.

Because you search for a Shmata to wrap yourself in and remember the touch forever.

Everything changed and nothing will be the same.

Can’t say whether it is good or bad, only that it is and maybe that is the best way to look at it.


Words Are Insufficient

Sometimes words are insufficient which is why people like Whitman write things like “we were together, I forget the rest.”

Maybe that is all we need and the courage to follow our heart across the sea and through the woods.

Mine broke open wide so very long ago I cannot remember how or when. Sometimes I wonder if it has ever been repaired or if it ever will be.

And then I smile because of course it healed and of course it was ripped open again and healed again.

Now it is in a place and position I am not sure I recognize and maybe that is best. Maybe it is a reminder to step out of my comfort zone and test the water.

Out in the cold, searching for a Shmata never knowing if I will wrap myself around or be wrapped in it.

Some say secret worlds are best left alone and others say they exist to be shared and because they offer an opportunity for growth and exploration like none other.

Words just do it justice, so I let it be and stand on the balcony searching for a Shmata.

Posted here too. Versions to be adjusted in both places.

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An Invitation

He extended an invitation and wondered if his hand would remain empty or be filled.

There was an opportunity just waiting to be shared.


Some days later he sat in his chair and reflected upon dreams, not dreams in the general sense of the word but the dreams he had that week.

Three times.

She had shown up in his dreams three times during the last week and each time it had been one of those way too real dreams.

Every time he woke up he could still smell and feel her touch. At least once she had given him a Cheshire cat grin and asked him how long he was going to wait to come find her.

“You told me to let go. You told me to stay away. But then again you also told me you’d never forgive me for not finding you sooner and made me promise to hold on. You said I should ignore things you said when you are angry.”

There was no answer and he didn’t expect one because he was awake and she wasn’t there.

He took a deep breath and asked himself what she would say and shook his head. If he went with his heart and not his head the answer would be to tell him she had meant all she said.

His head said things change and then said, but it is very possible.

“Maybe she is afraid that you would reject her if she made the first move.”

“Well, she is an idiot, maybe as big a one as the guy who is talking to himself.”

He shook his head and asked for a sign. Might have gotten one, but didn’t trust his gut as thoroughly as normal.

Overload, he was on overload and that made him a half slower and a bit more cautious but with a desire to be reckless.

Contradictions abounded and he felt like a stupid fool.

That made him laugh because it reminded him of past conversations. Once they had said they were best friends, did that ever really go away or change. Did it just fade or was it something that could reignite.

Once they had said they were best friends, did that ever really go away or change. Did it just fade or was it something that could reignite.

He missed being close with her and not just physically. Sometimes life was complicated and sometimes it was simple.

Maybe she’d come have a drink and talk about it.

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Some Love Doesn’t Die

Sundays and Stuff

She would scream if he fed her words back to her. Would yell if he said they were inextricably linked so he didn’t.

He just said he always wanted to kiss her one more time and probably do a few other things too.

And then he started writing a tale…

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If You Are Reading This

“If you are reading this and have been doing so consistently than I know you have a deeper interest than curiosity and it is more than ‘you like my writing.’

I haven’t ever believed differently even if your behavior made it questionable and gave me the idea that maybe I am just crazy.”

He stopped and looked at the handwritten note and thought about how if it was some crazy romantic comedy it would be time for some sort of music and mulled over some ideas.

Maybe Don’t Pull Your Love


Sentimental Lady

And of course somewhere in the midst of it all you have to include the Year Of The Cat.

And then he thought about how if it really was a movie he’d have to include one of those scenes where he’d run through an airport and barely make it to the gate before her flight.

Breathlessly he’d tell her not to go and give her some line about how he knew things and this particular insight made it clear that they had a future together.

He’d say it wasn’t going to be easy and show he had a plan because she would never go for it without that and then she’d agree.

Maybe there would be a kiss or maybe the camera would zoom in on their hands, fingers intertwined and you’d see them walking out together.

But it all depended on the director because he or she might choose to change the focus.

They might choose to go with a cliffhanger where you didn’t know whether it would end with joy or heartbreak.

Where you couldn’t see if she said yes or no and in an era of sequels that is likely.

She would say “I love you too” and then would come the ‘but’ or maybe it would be more aggressive.

“You are crazy and I would never be with you again.”

They’d show him walking away, head down, unaware that she was watching him go, tears in her eyes.

And the audience would yell at the screen, “turn around, she doesn’t mean it” and that crazy director would make sure the hero would turn his head slightly.

Just enough to let the audience know he might have noticed her but not enough to confirm and they’d have to wait to see if he would fight for her or move on.

Maybe that would lead into Stevie singing I was Made to Love Her

or some song by Journey, insert flashes of the two of them living their separate lives

Add a dash of Van Morrison right about the point it looks like they are about to reconnect:

If you had to include something modern for the younger kids you might add something like this

Or then again you could go the other direction entirely and turn it into something darker, studio might insist going that route because of the potential for money made from the sequel.

He looked down at the handwritten note and felt self-conscious and stupid. That led to feeling angry so he added a few lines that he thought might push her away.

“If you were smart you’d just submit and let me dominate you because you clearly need it from me.”

That didn’t read quite right so he scratched it out and tried something about bending her over the couch.

He decided that didn’t sound quite right either so he scratched it out as well.

Thing was she might be pissed off by all of those things and she might not. She might actually like it, you never could tell for certain.

That irritated him some more and he went back to his initial thought and wrote more about how she kept reading and how contradictory and illogical it all was.

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Together Again

The day she asked him how long it would take him to come back he had told her it would be as soon as possible.

Every time she asked him again he told her the same and swore he was working hard on making it happen.

He knew it was hard to wait and that she was frustrated because he was too.

“Baby, we have been to hell and back. Hold my hand and we’ll manage this too.”

She said ok and for a while that is how it went…until it didn’t.

He was blindsided by her decision to end things and didn’t understand why. When she refused to explain it pissed him off because had the situations been reversed she would have gone ape shit.

But he chose not to try and ride her about it because he didn’t believe they were really done and didn’t want to create more issues.


Years passed and sometimes he would think about her and wonder and sometimes he would have this feeling in his head that she was thinking about him too.

Occasionally he would find himself daydreaming about life with her and get angry with himself.

“This is stupidity. She gives you no indication that she has any interest. Stop being a shmuck and let go.”

He looked at the reflection and told it to try her trick. “Don’t write or call her for one full week. Mark off each day on a chart and then go for a second week. Eventually it will get easier.”

The reflection didn’t answer so he turned and walked away.

A short while late things went to hell and so he found lots of other things he had to focus upon.

In the midst of it all he took a moment to revisit his reflection and said maybe it was a good thing because it was a distraction.

“That’s stupidity. You didn’t stop loving her because of what she did or said and you didn’t stop loving her because your life sucks right now.  Don’t lie to yourself, that is stupidity.”

Time Passes

He climbed back out of hell, wiped off his brow and looked around. It had never been a question of could or would he, but when.

It was a new beginning in multiple ways and he felt some nervous excitement about it.

New job, and new opportunity.

Training required travel and so he went off for a week.

Dinner during training was always on his own. He was exhausted after the first day so he didn’t travel far.

The second day was easier and so he decided the second night would be an adventure and drove down the street.

That is when life surprised him a bit.

He saw a restaurant they had gone to many times and decided to go there, not because of her but because it was a place to get a beer and decent meal.

It started out as an ordinary night. He got his usual sandwich and beer and enjoyed them very much.

Things changed when he got to his car and saw the couple parked next to him.

They were kissing and it reminded him of the last time he had kissed her because it had been in the car at the restaurant.

Neither of them had wanted it to be the last time or serve as the last memory. Hell she had yelled at him about it later.

The memory made him smile because hands had wandered a bit.

“We’re not teenagers.  I am not real happy about this.”

“I know baby, not my choice either. I promise to make it up to you.”

She yelled a bit more but he knew she wasn’t really irritated about location and was more upset abou saying goodbye.

It hurt them both.


He reached his car and reality smacked him in the face.

He still missed her.

“Maybe she misses you too. You know she says things when she is angry. Maybe she expects you to ignore it and chase her.”

“She always tells me she doesn’t like when I ignore what she says.”

The reflection smiled and said it depends what you ignore and how.

“Sometimes she wants you to ignore her and do your thing anyhow. She likes when you ‘act’ like the man.”

“That’s true reflection and fuck you for saying it because it is not uniformly true. Sometimes she really doesn’t so if I ignore her when she wants it brings her closer and if I ignore her when she really doesn’t it pushes her away.

So fuck you reflection for confusing the situation. I am not a fucking mind reader.”

He took a deep breath and prepared to drive away.

“You might have to be if you want her back.”

Had it not been dangerous he would have pulled the mirror right off of the windshield but instead he put it up with the smug smile that looked back at him.

Another Time

Much more time passed and he found himself standing in a room with her. It was a public event and there would he no time to even try to talk the way he wanted to.

At one point she would pass by him and he would think for a moment of grabbing her by the hips and whispering, “We need to get coffee” but instead he would let her walk by.

Later that evening his reflection would lecture him about waiting for another time to try and get answers to the questions he had.

It had turned into a long debate and he had angrily muttered something about how he if he never slept with her again it wouldn’t be any more of a shock than waking up and discovering they lived together.

“She’ll give you reasons for why she has no interest or it can’t work one day and then tell you the exact opposite the next and never bat an eye about the contradiction.”

The reflection nodded, “tell her you think women are crazy and she’ll give you her line about men being morons.”

“Fuck you reflection, I am not in the mood. Got way too much shit flying at me now to wonder or worry about whether she loves, wants or needs me. Actions indicate it is nothing of the sort.”

“You don’t know what she is thinking and you shouldn’t base your information solely off what you see. She never says I love you first.”

“Fuck you for the second time reflection, I am not a mind reader. You’re asking me to go walk into the lion’s den hoping to discover they ate recently and won’t hurt me.”

Silence was his only answer and so he walked out the door and into the future, working on buildng the life he wanted.

Together again or together never, write it on a Hallmark card and sell it.

Yesterday was gone and the future unknown all that he could focus upon was what he could hold and touch today.

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