Old Man River
Standing room only. The heat so stifling that my clothes were soaked, clinging to my body as I tried to look over the heads of crying strangers towards the pastor. Among the strangers, faces of friends, old faces of familiar comfort, voices cracking with grief. "A celebration of life"... His life, our lives. The final chapter in what has proven to be a bittersweet story. But to me, it is still not real. As I told Kylie and Craig on the way out, I will miss him like crazy, but it doesn't make what he did any less idiotic. To think that love ends at 24...
I've never been in love. Of my three most recent relationships, I was awed by Oleg, comforted by Lee, intrigued by Fox. But I was never in love. A hard realization, but a necessary one. If it takes forever, I will wait...for you.
I don't know who you are, or where you are. I don't know if you are living a life far away on another continent, unaware except in your deepest dreams that I exist, or if I have already kissed you goodnight under the glaring light of the streetlamps. I don't know what colour your eyes are, or what the sound of the voice that will ignite me is. I don't know the colour of your hair, I don't know your favorite flavor of ice cream or your favorite movie. But I know you, as I have known you all my life, with that intimate certainty that resounds with a quiet "of course" that eliminates all doubts. I dream of you often, and though your face is obscured in the waking memory, everything else is as vivid as the blood-red of wine in crystal glasses. I dream of making love to you, of walking with you, of laughter and tears, and when I wake up it is to a happier world. Every day I do not spend with you is one more day to make myself better, so when the hour comes and I hear the quiet "of course" in my mind, and, for the first time, see it reflected in your eyes, I will be ready. I wake up in the morning, glad that today is another day when I can meet you. Have I smiled at you as I passed you in the hallways of the university? Perhaps I have seen you cross an airport in a distant country. Have I woken up in your arms, not yet knowing that the warmth of the night will become the warmth of my life? Have I seen your face in the glowing embers of a dying fire, in the shifting clouds of the sky, in the imaginative ramblings of a sixteen, eighteen, twenty year old girl? I will wait, but not search - because I know when the time is right, I will know you - you, the man I have always loved, even though I have never loved a man.
I've never been in love. Of my three most recent relationships, I was awed by Oleg, comforted by Lee, intrigued by Fox. But I was never in love. A hard realization, but a necessary one. If it takes forever, I will wait...for you.
I don't know who you are, or where you are. I don't know if you are living a life far away on another continent, unaware except in your deepest dreams that I exist, or if I have already kissed you goodnight under the glaring light of the streetlamps. I don't know what colour your eyes are, or what the sound of the voice that will ignite me is. I don't know the colour of your hair, I don't know your favorite flavor of ice cream or your favorite movie. But I know you, as I have known you all my life, with that intimate certainty that resounds with a quiet "of course" that eliminates all doubts. I dream of you often, and though your face is obscured in the waking memory, everything else is as vivid as the blood-red of wine in crystal glasses. I dream of making love to you, of walking with you, of laughter and tears, and when I wake up it is to a happier world. Every day I do not spend with you is one more day to make myself better, so when the hour comes and I hear the quiet "of course" in my mind, and, for the first time, see it reflected in your eyes, I will be ready. I wake up in the morning, glad that today is another day when I can meet you. Have I smiled at you as I passed you in the hallways of the university? Perhaps I have seen you cross an airport in a distant country. Have I woken up in your arms, not yet knowing that the warmth of the night will become the warmth of my life? Have I seen your face in the glowing embers of a dying fire, in the shifting clouds of the sky, in the imaginative ramblings of a sixteen, eighteen, twenty year old girl? I will wait, but not search - because I know when the time is right, I will know you - you, the man I have always loved, even though I have never loved a man.