just a memory to remember

I like to write. OK, that’s a lie. I need to write.

There are these moments where words gather in my head in small fractions of sentences, and they accumulate until I either put them to paper (virtual or otherwise), or hold onto them too long and start to lose them.

If I am lucky enough to be near a pen and paper / computer / eyeliner pencil and Iphone, I jot down the words and then rearrange them until they express what it is I’m thinking. usually it ends up in a less than adequate variation, but getting those words out is like. well it’s like exhaling a big sigh.

This is why I say I need to write instead of like to write. After all, we all must breath. Even when it hurts. Even when we’re hurt.

Don’t get me wrong, I do like to write…sometimes. On days when the weather is stormy and gray with rain, and there is a nice hot fire going, and I have a perfect cup of coffee in a fat mug, and I’m wearing super comfy, soft cloths. Or on days when the sun sets and there are colors that lace the sky that I’ve never even seen in the biggest Crayola box, and it’s warm but a cool breeze gently pushes at my back, and the crickets chirp in the distance, and the lightning bugs swirl above the plush, green late summer grass. Well on these days I love to write. How could I not when the world around me is so inspiring?

But those days are few and far between, and beyond them life happens. So in the majority of the time when the day is not so conducive to creativity, or there are a million and one things that just have to get done, or I’m just being particularly lazy. well it is a chore to write. One of those things that you know before you go into it you’ll feel better when your done, and it’s the getting into it you’re having trouble with…like exercising.

When I ignore my writing it builds up in me like steam in a hot teapot. At some point it comes hissing out of me (usually also like a teapot) in loud, screeching, annoying ways. Once I recognized this fun fact about me, I decided to try to write at least once a week. I mean, sit down, turn off the TV, grab a snack, and hack it out. That is the reason for this blog.

So it begins…

If I had known those were my last moments with you,

i would have drank you in without pause or hesitation.

I would have held you closer,

inhaled deeply the scent of your neck and hair.

I would have lingered in your embrace,

not being the first to pull away for a change.

I would have looked straight into your beautiful, dark brown eyes,

and told you "I love you,"

instead of casually saying "me too" as I half ran to the road...

...always late, now it's too late.

When I caught you watching me leave I would have tilted my head and smiled so big,

watching you watch me, 

getting every second of me before I was gone...

...it always made me feel wonderful,

but as usual I rolled my eyes,

uncomfortable in being loved.

I would have spent those moments loving you as you had always loved me...

...If I had known.

the photos on my wall are meant to be keep as a memory to be remember.