There’s this thing about being here in this space…the thing that told me for sure that I wanted to write. The thought that my words were out there for someone else to drink, to dream, to scold, to scoff – all of it. I felt it the first time someone replied to an entry. It was then I knew what I had only thought before. I can’t stay away. That’s the way it is with the devil isn’t it?
I have to wonder why it is that there is something I love so much that I am destined to do it alone. I tell you honestly, when I was with him, I didn’t have to think about being different. And, he was someone that I shared my passion for the music. I didn’t have to worry when we were on the dance floor. I didn’t give a second thought when our hands twisted together in public. Some folks take comfort in that. I understand the inclination.
Tonight, I stood, said hello and found I was unable to maintain eye contact. I was saying congrats on the upcoming baby but my mind was out of control. Anxiety strikes fast and furious. My feet wanted to run far away. I wanted to run. I was hammered by reality on all fronts with the bar lights, unlimited beer, and nothing to look at but the brown laminate table top. So, instead, I watched the couple outside the bar window kissing. He reached for her face and I thought, I love you and I miss you. I miss your face. I miss your hands. I miss the warm places that were mine for a time. Anxiety strikes fast and furious.
Time and alcohol. It is devastatingly predictable the one thing about bars and me and the need for the alcohol to relax. Actually it’s the same for different reasons.
Where does that leave me now? As people, we were born with the right to ask questions but I am tired. No, I am more than tired, I am weary.
I might be ready just to live in the heart beat and to focus on the shrug of big, strong shoulders. I just want to sit and watch the ladybug in the window. Instead, it’s the sea. I am surrounded by blue, blue and more blue. My skiff, rocks me rhythmically but my own inner ear keeps me lying flat on the planks. I tell you, I feel the need to drive all night long and say I am sorry, tell you love is in the hole and when you reach the middle it will still be hot. It will still be the same. It will still be yours. Instead, I am going to bed.
Dixie's Road Trip 