InvasiveThoughts.com

I have been able to disregard certain comments and perspectives from people when the passion pained me, but you, I care what you think...Is it wrong to care what you think of me? My fear: You will regret. What if you come to feel you have made a huge mistake? Caring…about me. What if you step back and start considering how you have felt and then wonder "why?" What if reality and fantasy do not align? You have been my muse and I yours, but a muse is not always real; more so the manifestation of our own impassioned desires, and the work a culmination of those artistic endeavors inspired from within. I your muse and you mine, both an intimate undulating spark in the creation

process; but if a muse becomes too real, does its power to inspire dissipate like exhaust?

Sometimes, I am so internal it becomes so difficult to step outside of it, yet it really is so confining to my spirit. I feel I must apologize for this failure to communicate adequately. Perhaps it is more reflective of this irony: I know you well and not at all. Or perhaps, my heart knows you well, and I have never known many of the details of you… there is something about the mundane that I fear…I would never want you or I to feel the mundane…These thoughts are meant only to be reflective, ponderous, searching, and considering…Please allow that there is a part of me tinged with an ever present sadness right now. I do my best to conceal it because I do not want it to be all of me, but presently it resides in my heart. It has been nearly a year, but before that I was in a wholly different place. So much more sure of myself and the direction my life was taking. Things were making sense...I am left trying to understand what happened and why, without any hope that there will be an ongoing communication to enlighten this quest. Without any hope that she will get better, or that she would have had that day of enlightenment and understanding and peace for herself. And now, I only have my own perspective to sift through, to find the truth or the deceit of…to understand fully the motivations of the key players through the years. Please forgive me for perhaps being a little lost right now. For the same reason that you do not ask certain things outright, for not wanting to prod and send me into a depth, I do not speak of certain things. I do not want you to see me as sad. I want to embrace the joy of being with you or speaking with you, rather than all of the muddled thoughts that plague me, and may plague me until I can come to some much needed understandings.

Sometimes, it is as though I am looking back at the "time before" and it is summer and

warm and the sun is shining bright and hopeful, and when I look forward I see a windy, barren and tattered road that I am sure will become rich soil again, but I know not when. I can't see around the bin, but I am sure there are many possible paths, yet I don't know which one to take. And for me it is a taking of roads. It is that very conscious step in one direction that I feel I must decide to make…My foot is raised in the air in the moment before the step (but it is a very long and uncertain moment)…And often, I feel like a bird ready to take flight. Sometimes it is my heart soaring with renewed hope and excitement and possibility. Other times it is simply a feeling of needing to escape, to lift off from the mess of confusion and uncertainty, but without the light feeling of soaring, with instead the pestered flapping of laden wings…So these and many more thoughts surge through me…a thousand surging thoughts…like voltage through a power line….and perhaps this is what renders me wordless at times….the surges are too many and too great…

I love it when you write to me.  I love your poetry and how you express yourself in words. I love to read your written thoughts. They are clearer and the distance is more appropriate... Your fear? Don't concern yourself.  I will likely never change how I feel about you. My fear? I will likely never be able to change my life enough to be who I want to be for you… I have to do this now while there is still some momentum…I suppose it will be more of the same "flapping with laden wings" that I have been doing as long as you have known me. The temptation to seek my redemption in you is great...Don't let me…I asked for this life and, for the most part, I'm grateful for what I have been allowed. I know my responsibility and yet sometimes I think I could give everything up just to have a lifetime of mornings and nights like the first week of this year…I must close my heart to myself. The irony is that my heart is still open to you.  I don't know how I taught myself to do this but I know I can offer you strength without allowing myself to feel protected by you and our relationship. The strength to repress my desires is the same strength I can use to lift your chin…please, in the closing weeks of this month, do not question this, my openness to you.  Let me protect you, let me love you. If I tell you to forgive yourself, forgive yourself. If I tell you to let your sadness guide your hand, take the pen or the brush and give the sadness form. I am with you...and I need to see you fight. Your fight, in turn, becomes my inspiration. My capacity to love you for your courage, gives me cause to fight also. It's a cycle.

I was so close to calling just to hear your voice. I fantasized that mine would be the first voice you heard today and that you would be happy for it…

Don't think that my indifference to the world includes you, EVER. Please know this and never think twice about whether or not you can share with me. Whatever happens, whatever you choose in your life, I am open to you. Why?  I suppose largely because you are not indifferent towards me and so, I feel safe with you. I feel understood by you, I feel safe to talk to you, be silent with you, listen to you, listen to your silence, to love you.

Is my desire not enough for you to appear

As I want, need you to appear?

Again, let the words fall.

Again, let me feel the heat of your breath...

Of candles that give life to a chorus of dancing shadows,

Dancing in celebration of our mutual esteem.

Let what we want to be start here.

I found another quote powerfully befitting to thoughts on my mind:

"...to possess things and persons in idea is the only pure good to be got from them; to possess them physically or legally is a burden and a snare…" (Persons and Places)

—    George Santayana

Is this not always a struggle? The desire to possess, to have another? What is it in human nature that makes us want to possess? And how much destruction, dramatic turmoil, and inner conflict occurs until one realizes what is expressed in this insightful quote? For some it is perhaps a constant struggle. For others, perhaps not...or perhaps it is a struggle for all because he speaks not only of the desirous possession of people, but of things…there is something in the idea of piercing my very skin with the Japanese symbols for Love and Freedom as a way to remind myself of the battle against possession...of the battle against wanting more from the people I love than the simple love itself...It is a battle...One must take arms against one's self, against that part of them that wants to have, to own, to possess, until the object of one's desire has been suffocated by it all... I myself must be a soldier in my own battle against this...

In your various battles, my love, what were today's victories? I have been thinking of you.  Do you know how much I wish for you, for us? Possessions don't/can't drive us to survive, to live. They exist only as symbols or ideally, as rewards. Our value doesn't come from them; it's the other way around. The only thing one truly possesses is the ability to recognize the people, places, foods, arts, information, etc. that inspires us i.e. makes us live, lift our chin... Remembering this is the battle. I love your vigilance, but the enemy is not yourself.

...I am in awe of you.  In your capacity to love me, I am awed. Thoughts of you... In my thoughts of you, there is reverence but also dread.  This is awe... a mixed emotion.  The dread? Sometimes, the fear that I can not keep you near me... your sublime serenity, rich in so many ways.  Sometimes, more simply, that I have doubts of my ability to continue to earn your admiration, or to receive your love with grace and humility.  The respect and reverence?  Simple.  Your beauty, intellect, and idealism.

Please, do me one thing when I see you. Do not close to me when the hour moves closer to the time you will leave...I won't be able to stand it if you do...nothing is certain in this life...time is not assured...if you take the time for granted because an assumption that it will come again, you will miss the intimacy of the moments at hand... (Because I need the moments together...to give me strength for the moments when you will reside in the heart alone)...

…Dearest, you asked me about missing you. Missing you is not a question of how much.  It's more of an absolute condition. For example, right now, I do not get to end my day with you. When I wake up…you will not be here, and later, you will not be there.  It's just something that rests in me, your absence. It migrates. Sometimes it is in my chest, sometimes it's near my stomach, sometimes, when I'm laying across the bed, I can feel it somewhere in the back of my throat, responding to the rhythm of my breathing. Maybe if I'm too busy to pay it attention, that's sort of like a lesser degree of missing you, but not really.

What attention do you wish me to give the space in me that is empty because I am not with you?  I cherish every gesture you give to remind me that I am loved…All I can offer is my rationality and all I can give is the guarantee that I will open to you at your every request. This is the promise of my love for you.