And so we skipped along, like two kids, grown and reliving the ideas of what it means to be young and to feel alive.
Nothing in the world is as freeing or as redeeming as this feeling.
I write this to you, or my future you to which one day I am hoping that this becomes us and we become them.
There is an us and them. At least, I know this is so in my soul
or so I hope.
But either way and for now, or just for now, I am thinking of a long, dirt road, which is humble and country-like, to say the least. I am thinking of the country-style daydreams which come from a childhood story that no one knows about. I am thinking about a scenario with a field and a slow-moving stream. And there is a huge weeping willow which is a spiritual representation more than it is “just a tree.” and the branches are like stories of all that went before and the branches move slightly from the oncoming breeze.
I am thinking about the warm summer sun and the blue color of a great big sky. The sky is filled with paradise and dreams but otherwise, the sky is complete with nothing, not an indentation, a mark or a blemish, nor a cloud in the sky.
Nothing is above us but the open air and perhaps a large-winged bird, hovering motionless, and hanging in the sky.
I can see this.
Literally.
The bird is like the weeping willow, which means this is another spiritual sign; and there it flies above, as if to watch over us, —the great hawk, like a gift from the Angels, golden brown and moving without motion with outstretched wings.
Flying overhead, overseeing and all-seeing, and all at once, there are no cares and there is no pain.
There is no one else
Just us, which to me, this reads more like justice.
If you understand (or so I hope)
There is no consequence or failures or need to count the times we slipped and fell.
There is no need interact with any kind of manmade thing.
Nothing else is more important.
I want this, of course, and perhaps, maybe we can be like kids.
We can be silly together and eat ice pops or eat candies that changed the colors of our tongues.
I want something simple now. I want something easy and meaningful and yet, there will be no pretense or masquerades or attempts or hide to be someone (or anyone) else.
I have seen the world.
Perhaps I have not seen everything or as many places as others.
But I have seen enough to learn and realize that time is moving. And more, as big as the world is, life is all too short and the world is far smaller than you and I believe.
Nothing is going to take me away. Nothing is going to stop me either.
Not fate. Not destiny.
Not even the threat of death is going to stop me because I know what it means to live like I’m dying alive.
I know how it feels to be present and still feel as if something is missing.
I know what it means to believe as if I am misplaced or alive and well, but living in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Or worse, I know what it means to invest and spend time with the wrong people.
I know how wasteful this is. I know about dreams that went too deferred for too long, or to lose my dreams that went away for so long, in fact, that they became forgotten, like an old shirt that once fitted perfectly but got lost in the wash and never returned.
I know that there are things that can happen and things that can never happen again. I know that nothing breaks apart and goes back to the way it was. I know that nothing and no one is perfect.
I know that we all have dishonesties. We’ve all made mistakes. We’ve all broken promises and we’ve all broken a heart (or two) in the past.
Ah, the past.
What a word.
Past, as in gone. As in dead, gone and buried.
And I get this. I get this down to my core.
In fact, I celebrate the word.
The Past . . .
What a great concept this is, —to leave the past behind and to kiss the present hello, as if to welcome what is instead of weeping about what was.
No.
I cannot fix what’s unfixable and I cannot mend or unbreak what I have broken, including the hearts that were ruined by my cowardly and selfish regard.
Yes, This was me.
I was selfish and scared and trying to survive my own game, which was only in my head—and yet, I knew that inside of me was a wealth of something beautiful that was dying to get out.
I knew that I always wanted to see the scene which is in my head—a country stream that cuts through a field with a big weeping willow that stands like a sign from god and says, “You two should rest yourselves here.
I swear to this.
I swear that the day you are mine and from the moment when we connect, I will hold this like it was more valuable than the sun.
I will never forget where I was or where we came from.
I will never forget what happened, —not because of what you or I did to each other or to anyone else, —no, I will never forget this because for me to do as I have done and yet, still be blessed with the chance to live, love, laugh, and learn with you means that lightening in a bottle only comes but so many times.
And this, or you, or us, or the dream I have are far more precious and rare than lightening in a bottle or a shooting star.
I need to find this place in my heart where we can skip or run or act like kids and eat something sweet, like the candies that change the colors of our tongue.
But please –
Please understand and know with all of your heart; the day I kiss you (for real) will seal the deal and from that day on, no one will ever have my attention because no one will ever have my heart, my mind, or my soul—except for you.
No one else has ever had this from me, but you
and no one else ever will,
except for you
Thank you, Mr. Van Morrison.
Your song, Sweet Thing proves to me that love is real and while evasive and crazy, no drug, no bag of dope, or narcotic bliss can create a high that feels like this.
I know it
The Written Addiction 