I loved a man once, the way we love another at 19 or 20, even 21. He was tall, slender, shining golden.
I would have to watch him dancing sexy with his girlfriend at parties.
He said to me once, as we lay together, he said, you know, I can’t always be with you. He continued, K. is my main girlfriend.
He said, you understand don’t you? And me, I said, in my most loving, understanding, “I know I don’t deserve all of you” kind of way…sure.
I said sure.
There’s more to this story but it’s already been said.
I wrote him a good-bye letter a few years later.
A good friend said, you have to tell him how you feel. I thought why. I thought, doesn’t he know?
I wrote it anyway. I poured my heart out. I wrote it to have a voice and it helped me understand my feelings.
I didn’t feel better but I did understand…more…maybe.
I told him, all I ever really wanted was for you to say you cared.
I asked if that was too much.
He never responded.
In deepest sleep not long ago, there he was, still tall, thin, and shining golden. It was me, now, my consciousness now.
It was me now he was speaking to.
In an apartment, in the dream time, he says, marry me, he says.
You know how it is in the dream world, mind to mind.
My mind is having the thought, oh you beautiful man, full of alcohol/heroin/cocaine, what makes you say that now, here in dream time?
I didn’t answer him, that seemed fair.
But you know, it felt, it was a circular event.
Feeling held by him through space and time; he reached through and gave me a gift.
You never know when tenderness will show itself.