Tuesday, November 23, 2004

it lingers

I had these dreams about Jerry last night that spoke of rejection and betrayal, and while I know no facet of either is true, they persistent in haunting my mood today. I don't really want to talk about them- I was going to post elsewhere (you know where) but when I got there I found my voice had already said it for me:

(from Sept 14th, 2004)
I walked up into my bedroom just now, and for a minute I thought- oh, Jerry's left. My bed's unmade, the pillows are haphazardly strewn across it, it smells warm like two people spent the night there.

No, there's no Jerry in Texas. It was an illusion, a throwback to times long past a year removed. It was a double sadness- first the disappointment of not having a sleepy boy waiting for me, memories of the past night assailing me through his fingertips and the circle of his arms, and second the utter dejection of realizing that the boy was never there at all.

The feeling passed, I recovered- did I? I thought I'd moved beyond the aching but it flashes past me every so often, glimpses of happiness tinged with regret. Grateful that I don't feel that way all the time anymore, like I used to, but sad that I am so far away from the memories now as to be shocked by them.

Maybe I'm listening to too much Jeff Buckley (who reminds me ever so of Jerry, for many reasons- sensuality being the biggest one of all), maybe I'm just lonely and lost- but the memories I've been living in lately all correspond to my room on Johnson St, twinkling string lights, spring winds, and something soft on the stereo. Passion, tenderness and understanding flicker through my soul but they're only half there- mostly shadows. What's love when it's...not lost, but shifted in other directions? Strained by distance and differences too monumental for us to surmount, it lingers on the fringes of emotion. "I miss you-" can that convey as much as I want it to? It's the deepest thing I've ever felt and the most painful. I miss you.