Tag: Chris

Kitchen Blog: 0330

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I’m at work, washing my hands in my client’s kitchen and I have this thought. You see, there has been no communication between me and Chris since my poetry and his money request. So I want to post to messenger, this thought, ‘During the day, your mind is full of distractions. At night,

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in the stillness of dreams, questions unanswered will form. While awake amid the sleeping hours, if you listen to your heart, there are the what ifs, the maybes, honesty. You see clearly, finally. All is revealed, in the midnight hour.’

This is what I want to post, and what I will post. It’s all a lie though, because I didn’t dream questions, and I sit here now thinking the answer to the ‘why’ of me and Chris is…
“Insanity,” says my mind.
Wow. Where did that come from? I didn’t even know that my mind was awake. I’m just barely awake myself.
“I never sleep,” says my mind, “Why do you think we’re so tired all the time?”
I figure, take a swig of coffee and start drinking some Pepsi.
“Or just stand up,” says my mind.
I talked to Andrew today, about our cousin’s death. Andrew mentioned the possibility of genetics with the causes of death in our family. Strokes and such. He says he’s been warned that it can happen to him. Also blindness and Diabetes complications.
“So Chris is nothing compared to that stuff, right?”
You’re right, I tell my mind. Chris is nothing compared to a lot of stuff going on in this family. Still, I can’t flush him from my system.
“Yeah,” says my mind. “Something as simple as shutting down messenger. So what if he doesn’t try to reach you some other way. Kill it quickly.”
Now I have to smile. My mind and it’s dramatics. It does have a point. I talked about Chris and the frequency of his (phony?) break-up concerns, but how about my ‘shut down messenger’ thoughts. It’s all getting annoying, tired, old, boring, STUPID!!!!!
“Yes. Very,” says my mind. “And do we have to end it? Do we have to say goodbye? Why can’t we just let it go? You know, like the couple of one night stands you had in your past life. You even left relationships without a backwards glance, left them wondering where you went. Left them with a ‘What. Really?!! To coin Chris again.”
I smile again. I love my mind. Too bad the two of us together are still indecisive. I don’t know. I guess I get some kind of something or other from hearing from Chris now, but not at the cost of me chasing a response anymore. There was the shadow thought of my mind earlier.
“Yeah. The thought that floated away half conceived. Wait, what was the thought?”
Now we both have to pause, my mind and I.
I remember. This, after about ten minutes.
“So do I,” says my mind. “No alarm, just an ‘if we don’t hear from Chris by…’ cut off point. A deadline. Then we shut down messenger.”
You’re right mind. That was it.
“So, what’s the shut-off date? Lol. Like your water.”
Lol. That’s not funny mind, that’s not funny at all.
“You want to get your little black book?”
Got it. July 4th.
“Independence Day it is. Are we still doing the post?”
Not sure. Unless I can do it here on the tablet.
“Let’s try it.”
I guess I’m not the only hopeless romantic.
“I don’t know about the romantic part, lol.”
Lol.
More than an hour later, maybe two, we did the post. So we’ve done our part.
“I feel our heart beat racing. Is this what ‘love dying’ feels like?”
I don’t know mind of mine. I don’t know.

Then Came You

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Like anything you lose because you don’t use it, creative brain cells can atrophy. Words set aside and forgotten. Ideas on scraps of paper that fade with time, or fall apart from being carried from place to place, but never put down on something harder, more concrete, permanent.

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You know your ability to create was not a fluke. It was there for years, from childhood, beyond adulthood.
Then you don’t feel like writing one day, then the next, and the next. Then one of those next days becomes a year. Those journals you were filling month after month, take a year to finish.

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Then comes the journal you never finish. It’s as if you stopped living. There’s nothing to write about.         20150821_185256[1]

Then came you.

You brought that back to me. You filled my creative well with inspiration. Feelings that were new, made life exciting, like unexpected gifts, an unwarranted bouquet of flowers on your work desk, or doorstep.

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Sunshine bursting through dark clouds.

God cloud

A heart stilled, skipping a beat smoothly, like that thrown stone across the water. Ripples building and spreading further and further until they reach the other side and the entire pond is nothing but happiness. A love so strong that it pulls you under, and you gulp for air, your heart and lungs full to capacity with immeasurable pleasure.
1312828411623Butterflies of delight flutter and lift you up because you’re as light as a feather. And you cannot stop writing because there’s too much to say, words flowing faster than your fingers can type.

So you put them here this time. 20150821_201056[1]Some place harder, more concrete, permanent.

Hello world!

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Windshield night view

I have broken free. Let me rephrase that. She has set me free. I am the ‘her’ who does not hide, who will not bite our ‘collective tongue.’ There will be warm and fuzzy here, but there will be cold and jagged. There will also be shards of glass on a path that will hopefully, be frequently traveled, so please watch your step. There will be an ongoing series of an online relationship between us and a person who has captured our heart as no one has ever captured it before.  The we, and us on this blog is ‘her’ to whom this blog belongs and me, when my ‘mind’, keeps us honest. So the texts we’ll be posting will be, what Chris (our person) says, what she says, and what I am thinking. Other conversations between me and her, take place in our kitchen, so we’ve dubbed these posts, Kitchen Blogs, with different subtitles. Most of this will be Chris related, but there are other men in our life, and you’ll learn about them in the kitchen, or other rooms. So come on and join us, let’s see what’s going on, and also, what’s cooking.