Malancholy calls
Handmaiden of grey fatigue
Singing of the past
Joni Mitchell sings
Of holy wine, sadly I
Recall autumn woods
Can it really be
A year since we walked under
Those autumn beeches?
That's a poem in 3 haiku I wrote for Noggin. Which he may never read.
I've given him the link to this place and right of reply. But he chooses not to and I respect his wishes. I think he trusts that Aspie honesty means he won't be defamed. I've never meant to. I love him too much.
Yes still.
I've seen him since. Stayed with him. Enjoyed his company as a friend. But I can't get him out of my heart. Hearts expand I suppose. In time maybe someone else can come in if I ever get back on the scene.
But I haven't been able to face doing that. Well I admit once but it was purely physical and impersonal. Grindr at its purest. But hunting for a replacement?
How do you replace a man who loves SciFi, worries about the ethics of keeping pets, can talk about Neitsche and dynamic networks at the same time and still be damned cute and rugged?
A man who spends 30 minutes trying to do a weed justice in a photo?
A man who always makes sure I can sit with my back to a wall in a restaurant?
I'm going on in this maudlin tone because I saw leaves fall today.
All I could think of was our last trip out before he moved. That walk in autumn woods while my heart cracked and bled.
I'm tired. It's been hard as foal is back at school and the effort of the school run and caring for her this week is really beyond me. But I'm damned if I'm not going to do it.
And I'm dipping into frank depression yet again.
And I miss him and part of me always will.
Nobody ever listens to song lyrics any more. Have you noticed? But if you have the time this early Pink Floyd song sums up my state. On the outside looking in. And getting old.
