Phantom limb...

"For the patients, long after the amputation is made, say they still feel pain in the amputated part. Of this they complain strongly, a thing worthy of wonder and almost incredible to people who have not experienced this. I believe this notion, the continuance of pain after loss, to be direct proof of the existence of the soul." –Ambroise Paré, 1551


I know you're out there somewhere living life—breathing in and out, laughing the kind of laugh that crinkles your eyes. I can’t hear your sounds, no matter how hard my ears strain. We no longer share the same spaces, though we share the same sky, and I often wonder where you fall under it. I try to visualize the distance, sticking pins in a map—blue for me, green for you—to mark the miles. Without you, I ache for what used to be. An itch that can't be scratched. A phantom limb.

If there was no you...

"If There Was No You"

When I see myself
I'm seeing you too
as long as I remember
and I'm feeling like I knew
that my jokes aren't funny
the truth isn't true
if there was no you.

If you were my boat in the deep blue sea
I'd probably sink you down.
I know I should have thanked you for carrying me
but for you I would happily drown.

Out on your way the darkest night the longest day
I know what to say to make you laugh.
And nothing you could do
could make me turn my back on you.
When you're looking for a fight,
I'm your man.
When you need a friend,
you got my hand.

And what I really mean
what I'm trying hard to say
is that I'm counting on you
and you got me too.
Our secrets aren't safe
I'm singing out of tune
if there was no you...
if there was no you.

Out on your way the darkest night the longest day
I know what to say to make you laugh.
And nothing you could do
could make me turn my back on you.
When you're looking for a fight,
I'm your man.
When you need a friend
you got my hand.
When you need a friend
you got my hand...
you got my hand.

Already gone...

I can’t be selfish when you look at me with those “kiss me” eyes.

Experience has taught me all roads lead downhill and end with a two-ton thud against a brick wall—wreckage unrecognizable.

It's a script I can recite by heart of a scene I've watched play out many times.
Same lines, different actors.

ME
(Center stage)

YOU
(Stage right by the door)
Explaining how we should have never gone down this path. Stringing together empty sentimentalities that leave me broken as you exit offstage.

(Exit stage right)

(Curtain)
THE END

So even though things could be as simple as your hand in mine on a long walk—it cannot be. Because you can’t be with me in the moment if in my mind you are already gone.

The cabin...

Last night we sat in the middle of a small room—maybe the living room of some tucked away cabin. The rug underneath us was threadbare and soft like my grandmother's quilts. The room was fairly dim, with evening-light angling in through bare windows, casting shadows across your face. And in this place, I was the listener. We sat facing each other, your delicate hands interlaced as you fidgeted a bit, preparing your words. The way you formed each syllable seemed so intimate, each phrase heavy with the gravity of two that used to love.

I felt calm in your presence, and I let each word settle under my skin. You explained your brain and its inner workings—how your head and heart duet. Your walls crumbled little by little until everything I longed to know was laid out in the center of the rug, vulnerable and beautiful.

And although, at the end of the night, I did not find your head resting on the pillow next to mine, our hearts had an understanding. I knew by the way you spoke, in genuine tones with gentle gestures. You knew by the way I looked at you, as if I could see all of our moments of laughter and love at once in your eyes. There was peace.

And as I opened the door for you, we smiled at one another, as travelers that met on a journey do when that journey has come to an end. A smile that can only be shared between two that have experienced joys and pitfalls side by side and lived to tell the tale. A smile that acknowledges time spent together and hopes it is enough to bind them thereafter.

I woke up as the door shut behind you, and I knew that my dreams and reality would not match up. All the way down to the lighting and the feeling of the rug beneath my feet.