Disappointed? About what?

Last week, while spending time with my girlfriends and enjoying a thoroughly enchanting conversation - in the middle of practically punctuating every sentence I made with his name, he appeared from out of nowhere.

I ended up having to spend almost the entire night one table away from where he and the girlfriend sat among friends, with her throwing herself all over him.

It was good that my chair forced me to face the other way.

It was just...different. You know?

Like...I was expecting something more.

More of him.

And I came to realize with a dawning look that he wasn't any less of himself.

He had just grown (or not grown, in a way) and has become a totally different person.

He probably told the girlfriend everything, which I don't really mind. I hadn't gone anywhere cheap with him anyway.

It was strange.

But it was the way I loved him.

It wasn't anything physical. I didn't dream of, you know, heated...exchanges, you could say... between us during midnights in any case. I don't know. In the nearly eight years spent being in love with him, I truthfully just never thought of wanting him that way. Ever.

Which is quite funny when one comes to think about it. I want a lot of other men that way most of the time.

It's just...

I wanted to share my soul.

And I wanted to look into his.

That night, it's like my world had tilted back into place. It had been revolving around the idea of him and the desire for him for a really long time. My world - perfect and infuriating and beautiful in every other aspect - had always been set askew by him.

As if Atlas indeed, had a hard time shrugging him off.

But that night... That night, I looked at him when he came up to greet us.

And I waited for that same sound of knocking at my door...and I waited.

By the end of the night, I'd just realized almost as if in a breath - the door was closed.

And it was now closed to him.

Finally.

Thank you.

To the gods, to the Universe, to mountains... thank you.

So This is Me.

There's this theory that everything happens at random. Life is random. Deaths are given at random. Animals procreate at random. Events in history occur at random. People choose their passions at random. People meet at random. Car accidents fall at random.

Somehow, I can never get behind that idea.

But when I think about all that love's brought to me...

What am I struggling for, if it is not meant to be?

I can't take a step. But I can't move on. I can't let him go completely. But I can't pull him in. I can't seem to be given a chance and I can't seem to make his chance known to him. Not in the theoretic or intangible but in the:

Come sit here a moment and I will tell you that I love you. Come down and meet my eyes so that you can see it for yourself.

The Salud to '09 (A story)

Some days it’s easy to forget what you tried to build.

‘What are you trying to build?’

‘I’m not sure anymore. I’ve stopped working on it for so long that I forget.’

‘It sounds like some Utopian dream.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’

The park is filled with people sprawled on the grass. The field is endless and you can barely see the roads and smog from over the coconut trees lining the edges. The two people were standing on the hill that sloped down onto the field where Christmas lanterns still clung to the branches like the hands of children trying to grope the stars.

‘I forgot about you.’ He said.

‘That I’m more than an idea?’ She chuckled. ‘That I brought on the crazy?’

‘Yeah.’ He answered, sighing as he drank in the sights, laughing.

‘Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.’ She said.

‘Is there?’ He turned to glance at her.

A slight pause.

‘No.’ She finally answered. Then she sighed. ‘No. I think I’m just lonely tonight.’

‘Do you like telling the truth?’

‘Can’t remember the last time I’d done so.’

She seemed nonchalant when she answered so he bit his tongue. No use pressuring her. She’d

talk when she was ready. After all, their meeting tonight was her idea.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed and about to go downstairs to use the computer. He had just come home from spending the day with the rest of his friends, and he was a just a little bit tipsy. It was 2:10 AM and he was in the lull between kinetic and inertia. Just about the time of day he didn’t know the first thing to do with himself. Then she called.

They met here.

‘I didn’t know that this place existed. Well,’ He muttered. ‘I knew it was here. But I didn’t know that...there was all this.’ His arm swept in the field.

‘Yeah.’ She agreed. ‘I didn’t know about it either. My grandmother told me about it just last night. Apparently when my mom and my aunts and uncle were small my grandparents took them here on New Year’s Eve to spend the night. This place used to be filled with people who were setting off fireworks and they’d bring blankets and tents here and the children would just run around and they’d all watch the sky.’

‘I’m amazed that it’s still allowed.’

‘It’s not.’ She smiled.

He looked at her. But she just continued to smile. She shrugged and the December breeze brushed by the both of them, ruffling their hair, which were both unruly. They looked like a pair of kids just after a game of tag. Or a couple of pelicans ruffled by the spray of crashing waves.

He nearly grinned at the thought. He liked flight. He thought that she did too until, well, she seemed to have lost her nerve a while back and was now just getting back her footing. He honestly did not know what to feel about that. Or what to make of it, for that matter. Not that he really cared.

He said her name out loud. How to phrase this.... ‘Is this illegal?’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ She sighed.

‘What if we get caught?’

‘We won’t.’ She answered, and then finally turned to look up at him. The December night was cold so she stuffed her hands into her pockets. She smiled softly. ‘It’s my dream. Nothing bad will happen to you here.’

Suddenly the pieces fell together.

‘Thank you.’ He told her and smiled.

‘Welcome.’ She smiled then turned to gaze up at the sky.

He studied the midnight as well. ‘There are no stars tonight.’ He observed.

‘Oh, I’m sure they’re out there.’ She waved her hand, smiling up at the ocean of midnight hue. ‘You just need a little light to see them, that’s all.’

He waited, his pulse rising slowly but surely to his throat.

And then...

...she laughed...

FIREWORKS.

Fragmented light exploded across the sky. Everything is illuminated.

People clapped and applauded.

Children jumped, pointed at the sky, shouted.

Everyone was happy and neither of the two observers was aware of the wide smile on his or her face.

‘It’s so real!’ He said laughing, wanting to cover his ears from the noise.

‘It is,’ She breathed softly, agreeing with him. Still watching the lights.

‘Everything is so loud!’

‘No,’ She then turned to face him. ‘The noise you hear is coming from outside your window.’ She was smiling. ‘It must be the New Year already.’ She breathed out his name, her eyes bright.

‘What?’ He studied her eyes, her expression made him smile.

‘It’s time to wake up.’

- 12/31/2008