So, What’s it Gonna Take?

One thing I know is that the world does not happen in an accidental way.
No, I believe in intention over coincidence and purpose over happenstance.
I believe that the world is a deliberate place; whereas you and I or the way we overlapped more than once is not coincidental. No, this comes from the power of some greater force than something that’s an accident of subject of chance.

Nothing is ever accidental, except for accidents.
Of course.
And even accidents come to a head or lead us to a point where we learn something or grow stronger.

I have travelled a great distance to be here.
At the same time, I have only moved in tiny circles to find that no matter where I went, all I needed was right here in front of me.

You have always been here.
Always . .
and I have always been there
(in your heart).
We never knew it though.

My early days misled me. Then again, much of life is misunderstood.
At least, this is how it seems to me.
I spent my early years drifting around, somewhat aimless and unsure of too much.
I was coasting on a misunderstood concept of what life is supposed to be.
I wondered as I wandered the so-called landscapes, lost, and looking for something to make my life meaningful.

I swore that I needed to be “Somebody,” before I could be “Anybody.”
If that makes sense.
I wanted to be someone.
I’ve always wanted to be somebody.
I wanted to have purpose and mean something.
I wanted to be a man of substance and not just wealth or someone with a car and a place to live.

But what does it mean to be meaningful?

What does it mean to have a purpose or an intention that cannot be deterred?
What does it take to make a decision to “go for it,” and not be shaken by the times or broken in stride?
I tried though.
I tried everything. But something was always missing.
I suppose the most accurate answer to this is “you” because how can anyone be whole if half of them is missing?
How long would I roam like this?
Would I be like Moses or more like his followers who were lost in the desert and looking for some kind of falsified God to make things right.
I don’t need a golden calf.
I need more.
Much more.

My middle years were not so different from the confusing bouts in my younger ones.
I was still missing or lost.
I wondered too deeply and I wandered through life, moving through different places in New York City, and wondering if I could be anything else or more than who I was.
And who was I?
Or who I am now if I am so different from who I was then?

I am in my older years now.
I am unsure about the time or the day of my eventual departure, which is why I raise my flag because I have lost and forfeited enough time and effort.
I gave too much away and lost far too much.
Therefore, I can no longer submit or afford to surrender anymore of my ground.
This is my line in the sand.
This is my stance and this is my final call.
I refuse to give way, submit, surrender, or allow myself to be executed by an assumption of miscommuncation.

I say what I mean.
I mean what I say.
I suppose age and experience has caused me to choose this spot.
Right here. Right now.

I wonder and wander and still, I look for the hopeful aspect which calls me like my helpful temptress.
Come to think of it, I love that word, “temptress.”
I love the word because it is both wild and wholesome to me. I connect this word to you because as wholesome and pure as I choose to see you, there is an attraction that makes me ferocious or even dangerous in the best and most loving way possible.

I am screaming for you.
I am screaming your name, right now.
Can you hear me?
If not, close your eyes and try to listen again.
Imagine me, screaming your name –
Like Sebastian in The Never-Ending Story.
Picture me pushing open a window and screaming up to the nighttime sky.
I want you to hear me in your heart,
Please . . .

I have a dream that I am committed to.
I will look for the chaos to solve and for the uprising to find peace or come to an ease. I will make this happen, at least enough to say, “Alright, already,” and we can come to an agreement that this year needs to be better than last year.
I am done with the battles and bullshit fights.
I’m through with the back and forth romance that doesn’t work, yet we held onto old myths and ideas to hope that somehow, our lies can come true.
I say this because everything that happened before now is a lie.
It’s all gone.

I want peace. But I am forced to be aware that the world is not always a peaceful place and times are far from easy.
Nevertheless, I want peace.
I want the easy street or the feeling I have while driving in the sunset.

I want the ease that comes when you find yourself accompanied by the one and only person who can solve the symptoms of your broken soul.
I want this and more, because as I unfold, I want to reveal everything to you because I never want to be dishonest or misleading again.

I want the joy that comes when waking up in the morning.
All is still.
The early sunlight beams through the curtain, the bed is warm, and the day ahead is promising.

I love to have the freedom of choice.
Do we stay in bed?
Do we get up?
Do we eat?
Do we go someplace we had never been before?
Do we make love one more time?
All of which are great choices to have.

I want the smile that can be felt for centuries.
And yes, I want more.
I want the feeling of beauty and eroticism of your pleasure.
I want this to trigger me with chills up and down my spine.
I want the joy of hearing the most beautiful voice and then I would match this with the sweetest whispers and find them both glorified by the most satisfying touch.
This is you . . .

I want this now. Especially now because I am thrilled and excited.
Or should I admit the truth?
Should I tell you that I feel strong as if I could burst through steal?
I want the only touch from the one hand that can cure the emotional cancers and solve saddest woes, which are well-known to all humankind.

And yes, anyone can touch a person. Anyone can touch or feel or grasp and grab.
However, what I am about to say is true to me.
It is a fact that only one person can unlock your magic door.

Only one person can sweep you off of your feet.
Yes. Just one person.
Only one person can make you rethink the accountability of life and only one person can look at you so intensely that you forget things like inhumanity, pain, suffering, and also the word regret is placed elsewhere, as in out of your vocabulary.

I’d love to put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door with you.
But life calls. And I understand this.
Work is work and bills are bills.
Life is life.
So be it.
This is the way things go.
But no one said we cannot enjoy ourselves.
Besides, there is no law that says we have to be unhappy.
Like I say, this is all I want to be – to be happy.

I say this with all of my heart. Yet, I know that I want this.
But eagerly speaking, I want more.
I want the touch, the feel, the scent and the sound of true love.
I want the imagination of what love is to fall short of reality. I want to know that when it comes to the real thing. I want to enjoy the rituals of naked bodies. I want to feel us, climbing each other, and I want to embrace the seance and the sways of how it feels to make love to (you) my love.

I want to feel the swells of emotion that are more than the word satisfaction can convey.
I want the absence of depression and the freedom from anxiety.
I cannot forget to mention my desire to feel the surge that comes from the electrical current when you see someone and find yourself completely and totally weak.
And so you know, I don’t mind being this kind of weak.

There are no ways to match this by any kind of synthetic version.
No one can be duplicated or refabricated.
Your one true love is your one true love.
No one can replace this and, of course, this is the position I am applying for.

There are no drugs or remedies or special drinks that can make you feel this way.
Only one person out of the population of 8 billion can do this.

There is no quick fix or short bursts of euphoria that can bring on the lofty sensation like this.
No movie script or song can match this feeling.
No, nothing comes close.
This is what comes when I think of what I’ve dreamt about for all these years. And as for my dreams, I want them all. But I still want more because I want them to be real.
I want them to be like this.
I want to feel as if my connection to the world is not misplaced or out of order.
I want to stand tall, even if I am too short to reach the heavens.

I want to erase the frailty and remove the figures of doubt so that insecurity can never mislead me again.

Like I have told you, life can grow this way, like a flower, blooming in the fascination of a slow-motion film. Ever see anything like this?
Ever watch the stages of a flower as it blossoms.
I love watching time-elapsed films like this. But more, this is us.
This is how I want us to be, growing, blooming, and blossoming to our best possible potential.

I want to witness “her” as in my love (or you), and I want to watch as you walk into a room, as if the lights shine upon you and the spotlight is envious because you are brighter and more striking than the romance of a full moon.

I want to see you walking towards the aisle, dressed in white with your veil, and I want to feel that tremendous surge in my heart because despite the pain I felt before, nothing could ever hurt me again.
Not now.
Not with you.
Not after all I went through, from knowing each other to being strangers, to reconnect, and then to find that yes, my full-circle, has come around and my dreams have finally come true.

No.
I am sorry.
There are no interpersonal accidents. Not like this.
There are no coincidences when it comes to something like us.
Life comes with different intentions; hence the word, “intention.”
We explore and we travel, we listen and we look.
We rise and we fall and we fail and we resume again the next day.
We bloom and we blossom and we evolve and flower each day.
I see us this way.
We do this on a daily basis and perhaps we live for tomorrow so that we can forget about today or the day before.
And I can understand why.
Before you, yesterday was a bitch.

I have skipped ahead and tried to fast forward but more often, I have rewound to see myself and replay old lifestyles that were unfit for me.
I assume the identity of a fallen prince. Yes. This is me.
A prince without his castle, for now.
Or maybe I finished the regretful stages the same as the prodigal son did. I squandered my unnatural wealth and now, to add color to this, I am ready to come clean and return to The Father, humbled and meek.

I am more ready than ever before.
I am ready to dare it all, life and limb, and I am ready to endure whatever pains may come because quitting or dying alive is no longer an option to me.

I am still young at heart and yet, I am equally old and dated.
I have aged to the point where I look back and wonder where the time has gone.

I wonder . . .
In the beginning, the end seems so far away. In the middle, I wondered where I began or how things would end. And now, I wonder if there is a way that I can reverse time.
But no.
I wish I could trace myself back to the earliest moment of awareness. This is when I realized that maybe I should turn around or at least look back. Maybe I should be loyal to my truths and hold on to my authentic self.
However, I was too afraid to be alone and more afraid of being unloved or unwanted.

But this was before.
Life is ahead of me now and all speeds move forward.
Even if I want to go backwards to resay my words or relitigate the past, or even if I wish I could redo my contemplations, which I contemplated over, again and again, still —my words or timing never seemed to come out the way I planned.

Nothing came out the way I wanted (or practiced) and so now, I find things somewhat unresolved or otherwise lingering.

Do you understand why I say things linger?
People, places, and things can linger.
Lingering:
as if to linger like an unwanted memory that refuses to relinquish its hold or let go of my soul.
Lingering:
as if to punish me for my mistakes and refuse to loosen its grip so I can breathe more easily.

I see this now from a different side.
I see that life lived in regret is not alive or living at all.

I cannot regress or go back nor can I change what was behind me.
So, I look at you now because looking at you reminds me that I need to change the way I see things in front of me.
I look at you because the image I hold in my heart allow my mental pictures to be beautiful . . .
like you.

Like anything else in life, I need to update my thinking.
I need to grow and improve.
I have to update my awareness and thus, I must update the way I choose to live and process the next step in front of me.

One step at a time, they say.
One day at a time, they tell me to.
And what do you say?
Don’t rush, you tell me?
Trust the process, am I right?

I understand this, of course.
I get this on an intellectual level.

However, I cannot fight the emotional desire to go, be, or do things with you because I have been dreaming in color for too long that my life is so much more vivid with you in it.
It would hurt me to go back to seeing things in black and white.

This is colorful to me. You. . .
This is real.
This is more than the need to break free or the need to go, be, or do.
I want to feel everything.
I want to run.
I want to be like that part of the song I always tell you about.
Do you know the one? Sweet thing is the name.
I want to drive down your street in the sunset.
I want to feel so crazed and so unstoppable that not even an iron door could stop me from getting to you.

It is the time which is around the corner of the holidays.
These months are always interesting to me.
I have no idea of what’s going to come.
I don’t know what the end of this year will bring or what the new year has in store for me — or us.

I am choosing this now, which is essentially the same as choosing myself over self-destruction.
I cannot worry about the powers that be or the circumstances that exist beyond my control.
I cannot worry about who knows, who sees, who cares or who wants in on this brand-new trick I’ve come up with.

I have chosen to break ties with the older versions of myself. Then again, perhaps I should explain that I have cut ties with the unwanted version of me.

In other words, I have chosen not to hold onto the pain anymore.
I refuse to connect with people who had otherwise left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

I have apologized enough for my mistakes —and to be clear, I believe an apology after an apology is nothing more than a different style of manipulation.
I offered my regrets. I said my peace.
I apologized.
Saying anything further would only make my apologies about me — and that’s not what my apologies were about.

I am sorry.
But holding on to the unwanted does nothing more than hold us back.
All this does is contain the spirit to a limitation that defies the purpose of having a soul in the first place.
It’s time for you and I to let our soul’s go free.

I suppose when you decide to draw the line and declare your freedom, you want to start this now, as in right away. I suppose this is why I seem to rush.
But I’m not.
I understand that my fork runs away with the spoon or that I get carried away and yes, I lose myself in the fantasy.
I have no throttle.
I understand this.
I can be pushy.
But to be honest, can you blame me?

I look at the years and the decades that I have wandered and searched and hoped.

I see something now, which is bigger than anything I have ever seen or felt before.
And so you know . . .
Not even an iron door could stop me from breaking through to reach my dreams and take what I want in my heart.

Do you miss watching the sun go down over the beach?
I do.
Would you enjoy an early morning walk with me when the sun comes up and the waves quietly fold on the sand?

I have an invitation for you
and it’s open for as long as time allows.

The lyrics, “If I had the world to give,” comes to mind again.
Because yes . . .
I’d give it to you
As long as you live

I swear