i cant believe it's been so long...

 

I can't believe it's been so long.

 

for the first time in a long time I logged in to this blog. It's not that I haven't thought about you. I think about you every day. You're the first thought when I wake. You're the last vision I have before drifting off to sleep.

 

so why haven't I been here? Why haven't I written you ask? I have tried not to. I've tried to keep myself away from you, even from the thoughts of you. Even now I am moved to tears just writing these words, just thinking your name.

 

and what has it been that my thought has been anchored upon? it is you. It has always been you.

 

 when I logged on tonight I was first and foremost greeted with how long it has been since my last post. It seems so long ago, and yet I discover the shock of having written you not a month and a half past. That may seem like a long time. And truth be told it has felt like years since I have allowed myself to pen thoughts of you. And yet it has been mere weeks. Perhaps 40 or 50 some-odd days since I've been here. 50 days that have lasted a lifetime.

 

and yet... you've never been closer to my heart.

 

it's been six months since I've reached out to you.

 

it's been over a year since I've seen you.

 

it's been nearly a year and a half since I've kissed you.

 

it's been almost two years since you've kissed me back.

 

I pass kikiriki vivero and think of you.

 

I go do laundry at free jabon and think of you.

 

 I walk home and pass crazy chicken, and think of you.

 

 I ask passengers if they have "Écureuils" in their bags, stumbling over the pronunciation. I go home for a funeral and scan the program for the word "hallelujah" since Sam can't say it. I listen to my French coworkers say "pleesure", and all I can think about is you.

 

i fly out to New Mexico, drive into the middle of the mountains in the dead of night, get lost in the darkness, submerged in a thunderstorm of biblical proportions, and yet when the morning comes and the radio returns I find myself filming the dashboard, listening to "no tengo dinero", and I think about you.

 

I no longer look at women and see them as beautiful or not; they simply either remind me of you or they dont.

 

I see pairs of pants on half manaquins and picture your gait.

 

I take picture of things to send you. I never do.

 

tonight I left work with three text messages waiting for me on my phone. They were from some 773 number not stored in my phone, so just the digits appeared as the sender. And even the unknown reminds me of you. Just the mere possibility that it could be you has my stomach in knots.

 

8am (the hour at which the last text advised me not to message back before)  can't come fast enough, just so that I can confirm that I'm crazy, that it isn't you.

 

I likely won't sleep tonight.

 

but I'll be thinking of you.

 

I love you with all my heart Bonita, from now until the end of time.

the numbers...

September 4th... That's the last time I broke down and wrote for you, wrote about you, wrote to you - or at least it was the last time I posted. As I logged in tonight I was reminded of just how much I think about you; there are a half dozen drafts I've written to post here, for you.

so what brings me here tonight? A girl, some girl, snapping her gum on the train. It made me almost crack my neck snapping it around, expecting to see you. Something - a nothing really - that plunged me deep into the thought of you.

as always, you're on my mind Bonita. I hope with all my heart that you're happy and well. But perhaps more than anything I hope you've forgotten me the way I haven't been able to forget you.

all my love for ever and a day mi skirls.

the same

it is always the same thought.

it is always you, Bonita.

sometimes I wonder if I'm going crazy. Albert Einstein defined insanity as "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." what troubles me is not that I keep doing the same thing over and over again. In fact, I have done everything in my power to do as many things differently hoping for equally different results. I have tried to avoid thinking of you, tried to avoid reminders of you, even to abandon this blog - the outlet of my own heart. But what is crazy to me is that no matter what I try I still end up with the same result; I always come back to you.

it's like the universe is crazy, and my sanity is drowning me.

I try so desperately to forget my own past with you, but to abandon my own thoughts proves to be as futile as abandoning my own senses.

I unconsciously breathe you in; I drown in you. Without attempt I am submerged and plunged to the depths of the world. And it is you that surrounds me, that captures me, that enslaves me. You hold my heart captive without effort, without attempt, without knowing.

and what am I to do?

I've tried to drug you out of my system, hoping that I can simply replace you with the haziness of misery that can be found at the bottom of a bottle, the end of a joint, or the last spoonful of ice cream. Nothing distracts me, nothing satiates me, nothing.

and what can I do? Where do I go when there is nowhere to run from my own head, my own heart. Even as I type these words now I am well aware of how ludicrous it is to be so wholeheartedly infatuated with you, so drunk on you, so in love.

I no longer feel pain, I no longer feel sorrow, desire, despair, love, hate, fear, remorse.

I am empty. I feel no more. I just have that place in which you once dwelled in my life, that place you live in my heart.

I can't help myself. I dont want to hear your voice, I dont want to see your face. But I am haunted by you.

I have run out of ways to say it. I have lost new ways to expunge you from me. I am desperate to be separate from you, to forget what was.

but I am lost without you.

live

I think life is good. In fact, I think life is beautiful.

I think the beauty of life lies in its' sorrow, its' pain. Whenever I am confronted with someone who is quite against the qualities of winter I rejoice. I begin by explaining how many great things the winter has to offer, from the snow, spreading serenity across everything, to snowballs, snowmen, snow angels, snow days, snow cones, seeing one's breath, a warm fire, cozy anythings, and hockey. The rant was usually capped with the reminder that Santa came in the winter, and so did my birthday.

before I let the conversation be, I reminded my audience the most important thing of all; "even if you don't like winter look at it this way: having to go through the winter makes sumner that much better."

and that's how this life is. The crappy shit we have to deal with, it makes all the cool stuff even better! Everyone has different levels of bad, of things they have to deal with, and accordingly have different levels of what is "good". But we all experience our own goods in a much more passionate way because of the "bad" that we must endure.

for that I am thankful to you Bonita for two independent and intertwined ways. I love you with all that I am. You are my good. You made me appreciate life because of how good it was with you in it. You are the first woman that I have loved with everything that I am.

you are also the bad. Life without you apart of it has been like the repeated ripping off of a bandaid. You and we were so good that I cannot keep myself from our memories, from my own thoughts. And each time I access you the bandaid is ripped off again. The pain is new again, the sorrow seems to have never left.

such is life Bella. I'm ok with the idea of never having you again. I have begun to realize that the pain I continuously remind myself of is to remind myself only of you, mi corizon.

life is beautiful, Bonita. And your beauty made my realize it.

yo te quiero, mi skirls...

the new texring

hey...

that's my text. I have your number. But I can't handle actually talking to you.

there's so much I want to share with you. The wind I hear is the only sound in my ears. Its so quiet here. I want to go to Paris with you.

it is in Paris that my internal clock is in sync with the time kept by everything in the city.

I am in sync with Paris. I am in sync with you.

happy thoughts and random smiles

 

 

 

I think about you a lot. As a result, I write about you a lot. Doing so affords me the opportunity to expound on my thoughts, and in a way it lets me evacuate them from my mind.

 

sometimes when I think about you it makes me really happy. I think about the countless smiles that you have inspired, the passion that you have fueled, the inside jokes that still please me. I think about all the good I associate with you, both in terms of who you are and who we were (or perhaps who I was with you).

 

sometimes when I think about you it makes me really sad. I think about all that I walked away from, the piece of my heart that seems missing, the life that I posses without you. I think about the good, and it makes me sad to be so far from it.

 

sometimes when I think about you it makes me motivated. I think about how I chose the opportunity to grow alone rather than with you, how I I left my heart in Chicago in order to truly grow into the man I know myself to be, how without chasing my dreams wholeheartedly I would be wasting what I sacrificed for them. I think about how hard I have to work, else it was all in vain.

 

I think all this and more about you Bonita.

 

the question is, should I allow myself to fuel these thoughts? Every keystroke, ink spill and thought manifestation perpetuates how big a piece of my life you still are.

 

is my indulgence in the passion you inspire poisoning me?

 

or should I just enjoy the way you make me feel alive with emotion?

A quick morning thought

I was listening to Britney Spears the other day (yes, I listen to Britney Spears. No shame! Check out the rest of my not-so-secret favourites at: http://8tracks.com/becomingadreamer/embarrassingly-awesome).

Anyways, I was walking along - suddenly paying attention to the lyrics - and it made me think of you Bonita. I hope wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you're wearing a smile.

I'm smiling just thinking about you, all the way from NYC. I hope you're doing well mi skirls.

-- untitled --

I write best when I write about you.

thoughts on a facebook suicide

i hate that i'm writing right now.

i never hate that i'm writing. but when it comes to writing like this, i hate it.

why am i still here? why can't i just let you become a part of my forgotten past rather than my exalted one?

i almost broke my own rule tonight,. i sat and stared at your facebook profile - as it displayed on my cell phone - and dug like a fiend. i wanted to see and read everything i could about you. i knew that i needed more, my words no longer satiating.

but alas! all i was privy to was your new profile picture. no wall posts. no relationship status. no posts. and yet i stared. i stared at those skirls of yours. that smile that never fails to captivate me. i sat and stared and once again was bewitched.

why am i here?

it has come to a head. you have grown to such a proportion that you cannot possibly be as great as i know you to be. and yet i buy into you whole heartedly. i simply can't get you out of my head. and when you are i invite you in, with vigor.

i added new pictures to my "favourites" on my windows phone. doing so makes them appear randomly on the live tile for pictures. i like adding new ones - not new pictures that i've just taken, but new ones like the ones that i have just added. most of the pictures-- no... scratch that... all the pictures i add are ones that are my best. just seeing each one (and there are currently a dozen or two) cocks a smile onto my face for hours on end.

and this is why i write now.

just actually looking at this picture reminded me of happiness, unlike any other i've known.

maybe it's imagined. maybe it's real. maybe you aren't as great as i think you are...

maybe you are...

I always seem to be a Debbie Downer

So as I lay in bed this rainy morning it dawned on me that 99.9% of my posts to you lately have been centered around how much I miss you, love you, think about you, etc... And though those things may not only be true and quite relevant (since they seem to be quite common thoughts of mine), in the words of one of my morning Cathay managers: "ain't nobody got time for that!"

If I keep writing about the same old, blah blah blah stuff you're probably going to stop reading these(if you haven't yet already!).

So here's a return to the old, original reason for this blog. Here's a little bit of me and my days...

So I'm still trying to cut my own hair. I mean, I am cutting my own hair, just sometimes it looks a little funny for a few days. As it turns out, I am still super hairy.

...but with Neal's wedding only a month away, I think it's time to have a professional do it as my skills may not cut it (pun intended!).

I also recently rediscovered my love for corn on the cob. It is sooooooooooooooo, so, so, SO good!

Last Monday I started my new job with Air France, submitting my two week notice to BA on Thursday. It's really scary to start all over again, to go back into the unknown so-to-speak. I love BA, and I loved my job with BA. I love the people, the atmosphere, the passengers, everything. I woke up each and every morning - even if it was at 230am - smiling like a little kid, excited always to go to work. And every day that I left terminal 7 I left smiling. That's what makes leaving so hard. I wish that I didn't like my job. I wish that I disliked BA. It would have made leaving so much easier. But that's not the case, and so it is with a heavy heart that I once again leave something I love for what my gut tells me is the right decision.

With Air France I have the opportunity to speak French, to move up, and to get my foot into Paris. And so it is with AF that I now place my hopes and dreams.

I think it's good... It has inspired me artistically...

...and yes... those are real leaves!

The other morning I was riding the bus to work when I looked up from my book and saw this...

Since the bus I take to work (or the one I am SUPPOSED to take) is usually (always) filled with other people going to work, seeing an empty bus was a pretty strong indicator that I had gotten on the wrong bus!

But all was good. Since I leave for work an hour before I really have to (for instances just like this!) I still got there 40 minutes before my shift began.

 

That night at the boarding gate I tried to quickly and discretely pick a booger out of my nose. We had achieved AOB (All On Board) and so there wasn't anyone around except for my co-workers. I went in hard and fast. A little too hard and too fast. I think I scratched my brain, because immediately my nose started gushing blood. I ran to the bathroom, and took this picture =)

That's what's good. I hope that life is treating you well, Bonita. You're always in my thoughts and prayers

I even seem to see you when you aren't really there...

Bonita Applebum, you got it going on!

I love you Bella

It's funny in a sad way

I don't know what's worse anymore: my loneliness not having you in my life, even if it's just to say hello; or if I were to have you, in such a limited way. Every time I pick up my phone I hope to see your name, to find a message or a call missed from you. And yet I know it would only devastate me.

It's hard to have the understanding that contact with you would be terrible. I don't mean terrible in the sense of bad, but terrible in the sense of prolonging. I hope that someday soon I can forget you.

And yet I haven't.

I let my mind wander, wander as I always have let it. And if I let enough time and thought pass, it inevitably comes back to you. What spell have you cast upon me Bella? How deeply and desperately you have bewitched me, enchanted me. What is wrong with me? Why have you so obviously moved on yet here I am, typing away in the remote hope that you will disregard what's best for you and for me and reach out to me. Maybe I hope that suddenly you will fall in love with me all over again. Or maybe I just hope that you are the one to crack, that you are the one to reach out and absolve me of responsibility for my heart.

I so desperately want you. I so honestly need you. I so constantly miss you.

I love you Bonita.

If not now, when...?

When will I forget you? When will I stop thinking of you? When will you no longer haunt my dreams?

Will I ever awake from this nightmare, this life without you?

I awoke this morning with you on my mind. Your face and your voice were so real. It was as though you were laying in bed next to me. All I wanted was to reach out to you; to touch you. And it was then that I realized that you weren't next to me. It was then that I remembered that I no longer have you.

I wanted to text you, to call you, to reach out to you to see if you still exists; to see if you ever existed. Was it a dream? Could it have been that good? Could you have been that wonderful? Could I have really walked away from us?

I can't get you out of my mind Bonita. Everywhere I look I see you...

Everywhere I look I am reminded of you...

Today I took the train downtown to meet my mother and spend the morning with her before she flew back to Charleston. On the train there was a young couple caressing and kissing each other. It so violently reminded me of you I spent the entire ride nauseous and with my eyes closed; every time I looked at them I got sick to my stomach thinking about you. I literally had to shut my eyes to avert seeing them, to avert seeing you.

...only you live on the inside of my eye lids. I can't escape you...

I don't know what to do. It has been so long since you've been here in my life. And yet you still occupy the same parts of my head and heart that you always have.

Why can't I forget you... Why must my heart ache and bleed for you...

I love you Bella. I miss you now as ever, and I miss you now as I fear I always will...

My breath taken away

I was going through my email and cleaning out all the junk. I had deleted messages from old friends, jobs, the works. It then came time to delete the folder named "Bonita". I knew that I couldn't open it up, that I had to erase everything in it without going through it, otherwise I would be doomed to taking a walk down memory lane. Inevitably such a wander would be detrimental.

I clicked on the folder, and with one slip of the finger I accidentally opened up an email I had sent myself. It was an excerpt from one of our text conversations, something I wanted to save because it touched me. This is what it said:

So Mexicans have a saying.  porque no comes Estes enamorado? Meaning why are you not eating is it cuz your in love. They think that when someone is in love they are too busy thinking about the other person that they forget to eat.

But for me is the opposite I'm so in love that I just wanna eat cuz it reminds me of you.  I eat the foods that you would cook for me

You are such a special woman. I cried as I read this over and over again, too chocked up to do anything else. Needless to say, the "Bonita" folder in my gmail account remained untouched.

With all my heart I hope you're well Bella; you deserve nothing short of happiness

Ive stopped trying to forget you

It's been so long...

I dont even know where to begin, except for the first time I hope you're happy without me. I know that is so callous and shallow, but it's the God's honest truth. We ended so abruptly, and yet I can't help but think that it's what the universe wanted. I kept trying to keep us together, and later to bring us back together. But time has shown me the beauty of what is. You and I is not what you want. And that's ok.

Bonita, I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. I have never ceased thinking about you, and I hope I never will. You are so special to me, and taught me what love can be. You are so beautiful and wonderful I can't help but smile when I think about you.

Yo te quiero mi skirls.

before even a kiss

When I went to Paris the first time, before we kissed, I had already begun to fall for you. This was ever so evident as I was going through my pictures from my first trip. And as I was reminded, I had Thoughts about you in Paris from the beginning

ode from a heart on a bus

How my heart pulls at me. It has been but two days, and even the lack of a message from you tears away at me. It is both a reflection of my own neurosis and lack of ego, and how desperately I crave you. When I said you were my drug I meant it more genuinely than you could ever know.

Is it unreasonable to want you constantly? What if you are, consciously or subconsciously, keeping yourself from me. What if you're holding back because you don't want to be hurt again, because you don't know (fully believe) that I'm coming back for you? Maybe it's easier for you to hold back how you truly feel about me, how you desire and need the way I do. Perhaps you're protecting yourself, and maybe it won't be until I actually come back to you that you will trust me with your heart again.

That's ok. I will wait for you. I know you're scared about something as crazy as us, just like I am. It's ludicrous to think that passion and love like what we share actually exists. It does. I know it because I feel it.

I have to be honest with you Bonita... When I first began to fight for you back, part of me hoped that you would be the one to walk away. I was almost dependant upon it as I feared how I felt. I was scared that I might actually be faced with the decision if I was actually coming back for you, if I actually loved you like I said and thought I did. I was worried that once again I had encountered love that I was too scared to fully submit to, to completely surrender myself to. Through it all, the love was too strong, I cared about you too much.

I've given in. I can't simply think I love you, or feel that I love you, but know I do. I don't know if you and I will live to a hundred together. I don't know if I came back and we couldn't make us happen. What I have faith in is that we need to try. You and I are too good together.

I seem to often be telling you of how I will be back, I just can't tell you when. That's the God's honest truth. I won't come back to you without my life and career in hand. I am no good to you nor I if I come back without my life in order. What you also need to know is that I am actively working on getting back to you. I'm coming.

Many times before - since our split - I have asked you to share how you feel about me, that you still love me or that [to some extent] you still need me. Those are unfair things to ask you to share with me, and I am truly sorry for having asked those admissions of vulnerability from you. However, I do need to know that there is something still there. I need you to share at some level about what you think, where your head's at. Do you still want me? Are you scared of us? Or have you simply lost everything you once felt for me?

love never fails.

I love you Bonita.

at a loss with words flowing

what am I to do? Where do I hide when I cannot escape my own head, my own thoughts? I don't know why, but I am infatuated with you, addicted to you, enthralled by you.

I've spent the last four hours since being done with work in intermittent and constant contact with my phone. Each time I pick it up I hope to see a winking smile indicating that there's a text message waiting for me. And each time I am greeted only with your smile, a blatant reminder of why my phone is in hand.

I want to talk to you all the time. I want to hear your voice if only to make my heart swell yet again. Sometimes I seek not an interesting or amusing or funny story from you; sometimes I just want you to tell me something that's on your mind if only to feel like I am still a part of your life...

I know you either can't give me this, or simply don't want to. I know it because I can sense and feel and hear the pain you have. You want to hate me as desperately as I wish to dislike you; we both wish not to need each other.

Yet I need you, perhaps more now than ever. Spending even just a few precious hours with you Wednesday served as a quite harsh reminder that with you the world is right again.

I'm scared to need you the way I do. I'm scared to feel a love like this, one that consumes me, that envelopes my heart and soul, that empassions every breath. I think of how foolish it is to pine after you, to still cherish you, to always fight for you. I think of what I think my life needs, where I believe it to be going, and where I want it to be. And at the end of the day, I simply want to be coming home to you.

I've never felt anything like this, a passion so overwhelming that it makes me throw caution to the wind. But I know it in my heart of hearts. I feel a love for you that makes the world dull and dim without you.

I'm scared Bonita. I'm scared to foolishly and blindly follow my heart. And yet my heart, my gut, and my soul tell me simply of the happiness and joy I have with you.

I love you Bonita. My heart reminds me of it with every beat it thumps. I will fight the good fight just for the chance of you, of us.

There is nary a person I have met with a kinder soul, a better smile, a more genuine being, or a greater heart. You inspire me, you motivate me, you excite me, and you drive me wild.

My only hope is to make you feel as wonderful and amazing as you truly are.

finding my heart

Songs for a smiley kind of afternoon

So many times I have found that lately, or it feels like lately, I have been doing many blog posts to you that are highly musically oriented. I think it's because many times these songs have fond a way to touch my heart and soul. That's how I equate them to you; they touch me like you do. I have never had someone touch me in the personal and intimate way that music does. You are the music of my life.

I believe in the power of language. I believe that things as they are said have specific meanings and consequences. I also believe that I have been reckless with language and words in my life. I have expressed how my heart has fluttered for another. I have confessed how I needed another, how I wanted another, how I lusted after another, and how another has been so much to me. Never have I meant it, felt it, or known it before you. You inspire so much in me the it both amazes and scares me. I have never felt my heart so warm and strong; never has my heart been spoken to. You are more than my words can ever express, and yet I shall spend the breath of my soul wishing to find a way to tell you just how beautiful and wonderful you truly are.

You are my muse, my heart, my friend, my inspiration, my libido, my obsession, my drug, and my love. You are things I do not understand, things I cannot name, and things I did not know could actually exist. You are a clichee of love, a mystery, a passion. You are what I smile about.

So I don't really know what the woman is saying at the beginning of this video. And truthfully, it doesn't really matter to me one way or the other. The guitar and the way it pours on makes me feel the way you do. Just the thought of you makes my words, my soul feel as though they are soaring through the air. You are my hear, my inspiration, my adoration, and my soul. For with you I can fly.

When I arrived in Chicago I headed downtown to the Loop. I figured I should be as close to Union Station as I could be so that when you could come to meet me we would have as much time together as possible. I also figured that I could stop into Sears and say hello to a few old friends while I waited for you. Ms Betty and Marcus have always been the reasons for my return to 1200, and since Marcus was no longer there, it was Ms Betty that my visit was centered around.

We talked about this and that; her asking me how New York was; me asking her about Sears and her son Alex. Ms Betty then asked me what it was like to return to Chicago. I could only reply that it felt like it did when I returned to Michigan from Chicago; it felt like coming home.

I don't have much in Chicago. In fact, all I really have is you. And even that I struggle for. Yet my heart is in Chicago, because my heart is wherever you are. Bonita, you need to do what's best for yourself and your son. And only your heart can tell you what that is. I just want you to know wherever that is, whatever that is, I will be there for you. Chicago, Florida, even to the moon; I'll be there. I love you Bonita.

Para mi Bonita

http://www.snapcuts.com/sc/10251

on my way to you

 

 

There's some meriposas in my belly

Really, really scared...

I work tomorrow morning at 515. It's a five hour shift, and with laundry and a trip to the dentist on my plate for the day my time from now until I leave for Chicago should be uneventful and pass quickly; the time since I've decided to come and now has flown by.

This surprises me. I thought that the time between when I decided to come see you and when I would actually be leaving/arriving would drag. I imagined that it would seem like time was merely crawling along as I am beyond excited to see you. I just assumed I would feel like a kid waiting for Christmas morning to arrive.

In fact, time is flying. And I'm scared to death.

What if I get to Chicago and I see you and it's weird? What happens if I get there and it's clear you know longer love me? What about if I don't even get to see you again?

There are so many possibilities that could occur on Wednesday, and seemingly so many of them could have detrimental consequences for me. I haven't felt this exposed and vulnerable in quite a long time, and quite simply it petrifies me.

So why am I coming to Chicago? Why am I putting myself so far out there and risking the health and well being of my heart? How clearly deranged must I be to get on a plane to fly back to where I just may be devastated once again?

It is only for you. I know there's a good change I'll be heartbroken again on Wednesday. But what if I'm not? Just the slim chance of seeing you smile, holding your hand and tasting your lips makes me come to you.

I'm scared Bonita. I'm scared to be hurt. But all that fear is worth it just to see you smile, just to smell you, just to feel you next to me.

Words of a song

Watch "Paul McCartney - Maybe I'm Amazed (Live)" on YouTube

Thoughts on a Wednesday for a Wednesday

I'm sitting here, finishing up my computer back ups, floating on cloud nine. To say that I am nervous and excited for next Wednesday is to make a grave understatement. I don't have any expectations Bonita; I only want to hold your hand

This post is quite scattered, as I am having trouble keeping anything but you in my mind. The following song I fell in love with quite unexpectedly, much the way I fell in love with you. I included this version as I am fascinated with the back story behind the song. It's funny how sometimes we don't intend for things to necessarily happen a certain way, they just do. I don't know what has brought me to here and now, I can only know that I love you/

The last song of this blog is a little out there. I discovered the song one day when searching some reggae artists my friends at work had recommended for me. The video came later. And though I was strangely attracted to this song, it was when I saw this video that I fell for it. Do something for me... Close your eyes and think about an animal. Any animal. That's what's called your power animal. Mine is an eagle. That may explain partially why I'm so into this video. Oh yeah, and add on the fact that I'm a part native - Inuit from my father's side. That's why I've got these almond shaped eyes of mine =)

Ok Bella.... That's all for tonight. I hope you had fun at the mall with Jenny, and that Anthony isn't crazy when you get home. Se you in a few minutes, mi amore...

I'm crazy... and about you

So you know I'm crazy. I mean, I'm crazy about you, but I'm also crazy like a fox, and crazy like the "coo coo" kind. It's a quite passionate and somewhat debilitating combination when it comes to you. I can't get you out of my system, my mind, my heart or my dreams.

It's why I don't call you Bonita. It's why I don't text you. It's why I use our blog - this blog - as my only connection to you, because ultimately I know that you can control whether you want to read my crazy or not. I don't have to force it upon you. 

I'm so into you Bonita. I don't want to be without you. I don't want to spend my days doing whatever it is if I don't get to come home at the end of it to you. You are my world, my heart, my everything. I only want to be able to wake up next to you in the morning.

And now....

"From port to port, for ever onward faring,
Ever more sad became the traveller."

How into you i am

I don't know exactly when it happened. But I know how much I fought it. I didn't want to like you. I didn't want to love you. I didn't want to want you. I didn't want to need you.
But I do.

How can i ever forget you?

The question keeps repeating itself in my head: what if I never get over you?
You haven't been my girlfriend for almost seven months now, and yet I am as enamoured as I ever have been with you. At first I thought I would be lucky,  I thought it would pass.  When I told you I would write to you until the day I die even I thought it would be something that we would both lose interest in. But here we are, me writing these words and you reading them.
Im sorry you are so often bombarded with my crazy, with my adoration, infatuation and need for you. But that's how it is. I love you Bonita. I can't swallow that. I can't ignore my heart when even the mention of your name sends it beating out of my chest.
So what do I do?

dreaming of you

oh man... I'm really into you.

you're like a dream I wake to, only you aren't here. It's as though you are a reverie that I cannot shake. Are you real? Were you ever?

I brought my computer in to be fixed - I dropped it off of my loft. It was a little Hispanic place at myrtle and Broadway, and the guy gave me a good price. I lost everything. He couldn't save my computer and had to format it. I lost the second book I wrote, a half dozen short stories, and everything I had done for almost the last two years.

the most devastating loss was losing every photo I had of you. All of Chicago, all of New York. Gone. I am beyond heartbroken.

the universe tends to unfold the way it should. Maybe it's fitting, maybe it makes sense that I have nothing left of you other than my memories, my dreams.

do you know I still dream of you when I sleep. I still wake with your scent in my nostrils. I still cannot let my mind wander as I know inevitably it will wander to you.

I'm so hopeless without you. I wish you had taught me how to forget you.

giving meaning to songs in my head...

when I was 18, sitting in a dorm room somewhere in Michigan I fell in love with two love songs. Somehow I was convinced that they would be songs that define true love for me. I had never really understood the words as they related to my life.

this morning you gave them meaning...

i wish i could share my happiness with you

how much sweeter this world would be if you could share it with me.

28 days

the saying goes that it takes 28 days to form a new habit. I wish you were something i could simply form a habit to stop needing.

you're always in my thoughts and heart beats Bonita.