Ephemeral depth

I got an email from a former lover this morning, catching me up on life and love. It was a beautifully worded letter, full of things that made me so happy to hear. It's such a lovely thing when the person at the end of a connection you thought you lost plucks the cord that still exists between you and plays you a little tune.
He ended the letter with:

Blue smoke in moonlight,
Cicadas stirring, fireflies lazily drift,
ping
frogs hop
and…
How many can say, as we may,
"we met in a collision of poetry"?
"We sail tonight for Singapore."
-----------------------------------------

And I got this incredibly happy. This knowledge that the memories you create with people, these seemingly ephemeral connections that come in and overwhelm you for a heartbeat, till they fade away, are not shallow. The moments that stick like taffy to the sides of the mercurial pool that is human experience, they are connected on the other side to the person you shared them with. Together, you create the depth that allows them to last, that allows you to learn from and enjoy those memories long after that person is no longer helping you create new memories.

For someone like me, who is so afraid of loss that she'll do some ridiculously unhealthy things to avoid it, this is an important reminder. The nights I remember, the conversations I replay, the words I throw at people... they all have their partners on the other sides of the threads I've thrown out and attached to other humans. It's nice to be reminded that the webs we weave don't only touch us, that we aren't alone in the center.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I fall

I wrote this awhile ago. I should have had it on here before, but I keep forgetting about it. Today reminded me :D.  I can almost feel you pulsing inside me Your rough hands grasping my ass Your breath hot and panting against my neck As my hands frantically pull and scratch at the wall in front of me And moans fall from my lips in time with your thrusts I look down, and I see the yawning chasm that your cock is pounding me towards Inch by slow, heavy inch, I slide closer My mouth opens on a silent scream And I give up, I let go I fall I soar for a moment But you ride my body to the bottom, biting my shoulder and bruising my hips in a desperate attempt to not let go We crash together with a jarring thud Gasping for breath and boneless You roll away, and I lie there Shuddering, my skin rippling with the aftershock
Read more

Babel

I've been thinking a lot about the story of the Tower of Babel lately. What got me started down that train of thought was wishing that I knew Spanish. That somehow I could just magically, based on the 2 years worth of primary school classes I had, remember everything, and put it together into a coherent whole without having to relearn the language. Not knowing a language that is being spoken around you feels deeply alienating. My brain would search for patterns and meaning, finding small clues here and there, but on the whole I was completely in the dark. With time, effort, and immersion, I'd be fine. But right off the bat? The alienation led to a sense of constant unease, a deep knowledge that I would be unable to express my needs if I had to. I found it very reassuring that most of the people around me knew English very well, and were happy to communicate with me using it. THAT got me to thinking about the power of language, the power dynamics behind being able to expect
Read more

Needs, Wants, Desires

What do I need? I need to be happy. I need to be fulfilled. I need to have a sense of purpose. I need to feel safe. I need to be independent. With that last one, I wonder. Do I need to be independent? Or do I want? I don't know. So, what do I want? I want to be rich. I want to be happy. I want to do something good with my life. Wow. Wanting to be rich, brain? Really? When you just spent a couple hours worth of thought cycles thinking about how unhealthy your relationship with money is? But rich means safety, and independence. I do not want to do what I do for a living. It is not who I am. But it is money. It is safety, and it is independence. The money I make keeps me comfortable, but not happy. If I had more money, would I be both comfortable and happy? Not from the money alone, but from what the money allowed me to do, maybe. But I know myself. If I am not doing what I want and need to be doing now, money won't make a difference. It won't give me more d
Read more