singingcamel's Diaryland diary

9:11 p.m. - September 30, 2001
hand in hand
Everyone's going to know who this is, but I'm blanking the name anyway. These are all excerpts from journals and poetry books I've had over the years, and they all pertain to this one person. I've never been able to just leave us be.

I don�t know why Mr. Tejada wanted to have sectionals with a trumpeter and a baritone player. Our parts don�t even coincide at all. But on second though, I�m glad he did. The trumpeter, his name�s ____? When he walked in and sat down beside me, something reassuring and calm drifted in with him. All of a sudden, I felt okay again. -February 15, 1997-

Sometimes I wish I�d have handled this better from the start. Why did that other girl have to get involved? Why didn�t I just call him myself? Why is my reputation what it is? It didn�t bother me at first, but now that I�m beginning to know him, I see all too clearly what I was missing. What I am missing. What I always will be missing, since first impressions speak way too loudly. He�ll always see me as the girl who said �what?� and laughed too loudly at all the wrong things. God. He almost said yes. -June 2, 1997-

It�s weird; I like him even though just his existence screws with my mind. It�s not that he�s remarkable, or that anything really stands out about him, except for he is, and it does. -November 12, 1997-

The rose he gave me is sitting in my closet; I can�t eat it, but I�m scared of saving it. What kind of person would I be if I started saving chocolate roses? What will I say when I�m thirty five, and when I remember him, which I will, I�ll want that rose to lift me to my memories? Will I call myself pathetic then?

It�s just that I�m so scared I�m going to lose him. -March 3, 1998-

I�ve watched us grow, and I can�t figure out whether we�re growing apart, or just straining to keep some kind of a hold. Maybe, for once, I should be the one to let go. -December 8, 1998

he looks serene and softly sweet

alive

i need that life so badly....

he holds my hand

i cry

i cry with him

while he wipes the tears away

i hold him close and he warms my heart..

i love him quietly

and he quietly goes on his way.

-March 17, 1999-

Those few inches were an eternity apart..... and suddenly I couldn�t bring myself to ever try to bridge them. It was, all of a sudden, too much.... -July 20, 1999-

whoever you are

i thought i knew

at least impressioned upon me, and

i was sure that you were, too

tangled up in

knots of expectations

for the future, and each other, and another warning

you didn�t see, and

i was sure that you did, too

ever since

i�ve been cautious

how could you

how could you have broken me, like

you thought i should have felt it too

felt like you

you thought i should have

felt like you

-November 1, 1999-

It�s like a goddamn aching sorrow, and it�s beautiful at the same time. It�s also unrequited... I�d know in a second if it weren�t. Besides, I know better that to ask him.... that subject is cleared with us, it�s not happening. Never will.

But my heart is stubborn, and it aches and prods me often... -December 25, 1999-

My heart is hollow just thinking about it. He cannot die, he did not die....I would lose half of my own soul! Why do I have these premonitions? I need him, here with me. Just to touch his hand. Just to fucking hold his hand!! That�s all I ever wanted, just to hold his hand... maybe feel comfortable for once in my fucked up life. He�s the only one who can mess me up like this, and the only one who can resolve it.... whatever the hell deity is up there has a sick sense of humor. -July 11, 2000-

i admit that i was impossible to deal with

i was an ocean

of emotion

couldn�t stop i could not just let life take its falls

had to take it in and

break it in and

make it into something else that

made sense in my mind

but i know that in due time

it would collapse around me.

i�m not apologizing for who i was

but how i dealt with it

and you

and i�m not regretting how i felt

but the aura that surrounded us and who were were. i couldn�t say that

maybe

i was fishing for true love

but when i did it seemed that i was gonna drown

i just kept going down

however you may have seen it

i�m explaining how it was

it would have been so much easier had it never, ever gone down that way

then maybe i wouldn�t to stay

so ashamed.

-July 22, 2000-

He takes life as it comes and expels it right back out there, embedded somewhere within a philosophy. His sighs say it all. What is must be to be ____..... life as a languid pool. -August 4, 2000-

what would we be if we could be what you are

asking me to see?

if i went up through the threads of string

that held you down

cut them one by one and set you free?

-September 19, 2000-

And after that day I was feeling out of touch and needed a dose of ____; I went over there for what was supposed to be a few minutes, but turned into hours, like always....

We�ve been out of touch lately, and we didn�t talk then, either, but when I was leaving something was remembered and he smiled and we walked into the hall with our arms around each other and he was warm and calm just like always, like nothing had changed. I forgot for a second everything that had gone unsaid; just basked in his being there, being close, being my friend..... being enough, for once. -January 23, 2001-

....and I can�t cry over him anymore. at least I don�t want to, but I am.... why can�t I just replace all the prefabricated setups, the fake moments, and paint them over, cover them thick and wet with the color of raw, bitter truth..... -February 20, 2001

How could I have explained that not only did I exhaust him, but wearied the rest of the world, too? Living with myself is a constant whirlwind, but I never, ever get a break from myself unless I'm with him... his calm, his simplicity, his quiet strength. With ____, I can briefly comprehend an uncomplicated world. -March 3, 2001

His face showed nothing. He was luminous below me, stretched out across the bed, eyes half lidded from the overhead glare. I'll always love him, if not only for the simple fact that I feel like I was meant to. He is unique in a way I've never before come across, and most likely never will again. His soul feels light, it feels warm, honest. Coming within six inches of his hand, there's a glow not unlike electricity. I've never been able to sense anyone like I do him. True, we've come to an impasse, or maybe it's just the time. We don't talk anymore and the silence isn't even comfortable. I find myself tearing up for no reason sometimes, we can't even hold each other for more than five seconds without having to break away. I accepted our relationship a long time ago, accepted that it would never be easy for me. We're not the kind of people that bond instantly, without having to scream and cry and argue all the time. And I never figured out why I needed him so much, just to be himself and be there for me, but I needed him, and still do. He's the small foundation on which I base what little sanity I have left. I tell him things I didn't even know I felt until they came spilling out of my mouth. He's the only one I ever told the truth about my tendency toward drama, my exaggerations. This has to count for something, I keep telling myself this; that there is a reason for him and me being like we are. And he says he'll always be here, yet I'm constantly scared to lose him. Someday I'm going to have to realize that he is who he is.... constant, truthful, and steadier than I give him credit for. -March 30, 2001

I stopped writing in March. I almost miss the emotion that comes flowing whenever his name is brought up. I don't know if we're just wonderful friends or he's the manifestation of my emotions playing havoc on me.

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