Merci (toujours) 

I only really think of you out of context. I forget that sometimes. Maybe I do it deliberately, maybe I choose to forget; I’m not sure. Either way, I don’t really think about you as you really are. I don’t imagine what you’re doing when I don’t hear from you. I simply can’t imagine it. That part of your life is unknown to me, I can’t possibly imagine it because it just doesn’t exist in my mind.

And I’ve been so unfair to you. You don’t belong to me.

You reminded me that there is more to life out there. I have moments like right now when it seems plausible – almost probable – that amazing things are going to happen but then I have moments where I can barely comprehend any kind of tomorrow. You gave me that rush back, the one you get when the future looks all shiny and new and hopeful. And you help me hold on to it for longer each time. I know I haven’t come far but I haven’t given up.

The conversations I loved the most were the ones where we found ourselves on adventures with each other in our heads, without even really saying anything. You could just say “road trip” and somehow I’m there with you, with my bare feet on your dashboard. Sometimes it’s like you live in my dreams.

But fucking hell… That would be a terrible place to live. That’s where all the zombies and evil robotic mimes come from.

For all that you are, I think you know there’s always going to be something more out there no matter how much you achieve. Always a ‘what if…’; always a niggling feeling that perhaps there’s an important experience you’ve missed out on. But maybe I’m wrong; maybe you’ll get to the end and finally feel like there’s nothing else worth chasing.

I hope so. Happiness has to be around there somewhere, right?

Even if you don’t find happiness, I hope you have a wonderful time trying. And this isn’t goodbye… But perhaps this is the end of a chapter. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next one, but something has changed… hasn’t it?

Threshold consciousness

The perils of being mindful when you can’t get someone out of your head.

Stop where you are and ground yourself.
but all I think about is you;
my awareness is preoccupied
with its awareness of your absence.

I close my eyes to the world
and try to still my mind.

There you are.

But it’s not a worry
or a longing,
it’s just the constant presence
of the knowledge of your existence,
like some of your energy
is keeping me company,
reminding me
that somewhere
there is someone
who wants me to be happy
even though
I do nothing
but antagonise.

Tame your monkey mind.

In the final lingering moments
between wakefulness and sleep –
when I feel as though you’re there with me,
falling asleep around me,
and making me feel safe –
I feel this connection start to fade
but it’s not because you’re leaving me.
On the contrary:
you have just run on ahead
to meet me in my dreams.