Apr 172012
 
Guitarist on The Beach

Sundown

I think of you now and then. When storm clouds darken the summer sky and the rain begins to fall on my skin. I remember holding you in a soft summer rain when we had just began our journey together. I remember nights and days of love and laughter and the feeling that time had stopped at a perfect moment. I remember the whisper of your long hair across my chest and your voice in my ear. You promised to love me forever and always be by my side. My heart soared aloft on those words and I told you that I would live and die by your side. The nights and days drifted by in a warm romantic haze and we lay in each others arms sure that we belonged together.

I have seen your face in so many places and sometimes I still do. Except that now I can no longer turn to you and smell your perfume or the faint smell of coffee on your lips. When I have a crazy idea I can no longer bound up the stairs, breathless to tell you all about it. Every now and then I turn to speak your name only to remember that you are no longer here with me. I can’t reach out in the middle of a cold night to touch you and reassure myself that you are real and sleeping right beside me.

From the mountains in Georgia to the forgotten coast of Florida and the delightful circus of New Orleans we shared those little moments in time and place that I will never forget. I saw you cold and damp, tired of the rain and I saw you warm and happy. Your long hair flying in the wind. Each moment is a snapshot of love and joy and they are all collected in the album of my heart.

It would never have been possible for me to love you more. My heart swelled with love and pride at the very sight of you and your touch always made my stomach feel as though butterflies had taken up residence there. The soft pad of your feet on the stairs signaling your arrival home made my heart skip a beat in just the same way  a whispered “I love you” did. Sometimes you caught me staring at you from over the lid of a laptop or when you thought I was sleeping. You always responded with a wink and a smile and it always made my heart glad. I sometimes felt as though you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen both inside and out. I counted myself among the lucky few who could tell of true love and the mystery of it all.

Something changed and I am not sure why. I won’t lay blame solely at your feet. I will take my share as well. I just wish that I hadn’t lost my ability to speak and you hadn’t lost your ability to hear. The days once warm and tender and full of life began to disappear behind us in a silence that was both unforgiving and devastating. You began to resent the very things you once loved me for. I began to resent the things in you I once admired. The poison spread unchecked, neither of us able or willing to draw it from the wounds in our souls and allow those wounds to heal. Instead it was if we nurtured and cared for those wounds more than we nurtured and cared for each other. Eventually in a crash of thunder mightier than any summer storm our love and life together was gone.

Part of me was relieved and I am sure a part of you felt just the same. After all our time together we could find no words to sing a wonderful and beautiful thing to its rest. When I tried I found that you still had not remembered how to listen. When I tried once again I found that I had perhaps found my voice too well. I didn’t write that letter to hurt you or wound you or get even in some way. I wanted to tell you everything I had tried and failed to tell you before. In fact I worried then, as I worry now that perhaps there might have been a better way to tell you those things my heart was feeling.

I am not shy and I am not ashamed to say that I think about you from time to time and I know that I will think of you for a very long time. Perhaps it is not healthy. Perhaps I should just move on. It is hard for me though. It is hard for me to hold an album of memories in my heart and not be tempted to flip through the pages. It is hard not recall snapshots of you I took with the camera of my heart in those moments when I loved you the most. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could inhabit my soul for just one moment when I watched you sleeping. Then you would know what it was like for me every morning for so very long.

So I will keep that album and I will carry it about with me. I will sit in summer storms and flip through the pages and I will remember you. When the leaves turn a thousand shades of red and gold I will recall seeing your breath in the wind on a cold night when the stars wheeled overhead and we lay on a deserted beach together. A part of me will always love you. For the love you shared with me and the positive changes you brought about in my life and my person. It was a rare and beautiful thing indeed. You will never know how sorry I am to see it go.

I was blessed to spend time with you and I am grateful for every moment by your side. I know that I can be a handful and I know that I can cause a nun to kick a hole in a stained glass window when I become intractable and stubborn. Sometimes I wondered how you could love me at all and I always admired you for it. Though I am not sure I ever told you that. It is just one more example of losing my voice. I wish I could remember how I spoke with you when we were new and I was unafraid to bare my soul. I am haunted by the notion that there is something more, something I should say. Maybe I am just being, well, “me” in my desire to share the things with you that have no words to describe them.

The moment I press the “Publish” button the ‘bots will come. They will crawl and index and categorize and place my words to you in an electronic archive that will last, in essence, forever. A “tweet” will be generated with a link to this post. A notice will be posted to Facebook as well and the curious will come calling to see what I am on about this time. The subscribers to my RSS feed will likely read it first since it is not the middle of the night in Sweden and Great Britain. Everyone who reads it will have their own ideas and opinions and maybe even advice or criticism. That is okay. I hope that if anyone takes any message from my thoughts it will be to never take someone you love for granted. Never wait till tomorrow to say things you should give voice to today. Never be afraid to love and hope and dream and to give your heart away. Sometimes you will be hurt, but sometimes there are moments when the entirety of the universe pauses just the same as your breathing before it explodes just like your heart. Those moments with you were worth all the pain and heartache. You took my breath away too many times to count. Thank you for reminding me in those moments what it was truly like to be alive.

I am not sad and I am not angry.  I just miss my friend and my companion.  I miss your smile and your winks and the things we shared.  I miss cooking for you and offering what advice I could when you needed it.  I miss the smell of your perfume and your boisterous laugh.  I miss sharing crazy ideas and deep thoughts with you.  I even miss making coffee for you every morning.

Do you remember how I told you that if you would but let me I would declare my love for you from the highest rooftop? I am up here now, preparing to shout to a mostly sleeping world. My voice is electronic, as fast as the speed of light and as loud as thunder. I am under those same stars that watched over us so many nights from forests to seashore. Maybe I have lost the better part of my voice but with what I have left, I am sorry for what became of us and I am sorry that I ever made you feel anything than less than love in your heart.

© 2012, Connor MacLeod. All rights reserved.

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Connor MacLeod

Connor MacLeod is a writer, blogger and photographer who maintains a variety of blogs on differing subjects. This blog is his "playground" blog where he posts random things about random things. Particularly things about the 1970's and 1980's. Google