Where are you going?
He asked but what to say?
He gave me a goofy look as I thought about it.
I don't know, I said, somewhere better.
I replied why not?
He grabbed my hand, looking down, studying my blue veins.
Can we still hang out?
I wasn't dying or anything, just finding a better way then him.
Besides, this eliminates his concerns about me, I told him.
He knew it was true.
Our romance scared the shit out of him.
I saw the question he wanted to ask but was afraid to speak,
the worry that sat on his brow.
No, I whispered, it had nothing to do with him.
Where can I find you? he said what to do?
His eyes were intense so I smiled.
Same way he always found me, I supposed.
I am sorry for the things I cannot give you but want to so much.
You stare at me and I melt in those brown eyes
because I know what I must be for you.
Sometimes I want too much to give you the best,
feeling most of the time I fall short.
You only need my love and you have all of it
but I doubt myself.
One day you will know how hard I try.
Maybe you will appreciate it but you won't.
It doesn't matter.
I am sorry we struggle so.
It seems like there is always a new battle, additions to the ones we already fight.
I can only hope that your life works out better than my own
but I will never give on us.
You don't either.
Ignore me sometimes if I all can do is sit down and cry.
Sometimes it's all I got.
He winked at me without any explanation for the occasion.
I walked away, not knowing what else to do.
Throughout the day, glances across the room but I went on my way,
not believing it was me he was looking at anyway.
I dropped my pen.
He was sitting next to me.
I hadn't noticed until he handed it back to me.
He asked me if I was there alone.
I smiled, saying I guess I was.
Sometimes I don't notice things like that either.
He told me his name but I wasn't paying attention,
still uncertain if he was talking to me.
I gave him my name.
I told him I was highly trained in Kungfu.
He laughed and continued on.
I could have been serious.
More questions with my usual vague response
but it seemed to only spike his curiosity which then intrigued me.
I looked at his hands.
There is always something.
I started drifting away until he called me beautiful.
I winked at him without any further conversation.
You don't have to like me or love me or whatever.
At the end of the day, I have nothing to prove.
You were surprised the other night at the way I was acting
but I gave you no explanation other regurgitated bullshit about how we all put on facades.
I wasn't asking for your acceptance because it doesn't matter.
You want to believe that I am playing a silly game with you
but I don't honestly care that much.
I told you that there was more to me then you knew
and, again, you asked why I didn't show it.
Why would I?
There's no map, no rhyme, no reason to who I am.
All you have to do is to say the right words but you're not that clever.
You gave me a look and I said I didn't know you any better.
So we were even, you're just not as complicated.
I have no hang ups like you, no regrets, no doubts.
I know who I am, that's all there is to me.
You squirm in your own skin.
I see you pulling at it like a tie that's too tight around your neck.
I never asked you to have any feelings towards me other then to be my friend
but you run like the plague.
You don't have to be anything to me after all.
At the end of the day, you don't owe me anything either.
Maybe you will remember all the things we do today,
vague memories of your mother with brownish-blonde hair strumming a guitar
in the dim light of your childhood bedroom, singing silly songs about your stinky diapers.
Perhaps, as a woman, you will recall the living room picnics we had every night
or how we would dance around to the oldies after your bath both in our jammies.
That's what I want to give you.
I see you smile, praying that I make an impression on what is really important.
Later on, when you are left with only a memory of me,
I want you to say that your mother knew what life was,
never anything more then enjoying the moment, every moment.
Maybe you will tell your kids about the show tunes in the car,
the Sunday morning coffee houses, the drawings on the walls.
Maybe you will have recollections of the way I curled up next to you as you fell asleep,
the way my eyes teared up every time your sweet voice called me Mommy
or the way my heart melted every time your two small arms would reach for me,
the way you gave me courage when you were my little champion.
I know I have never been the normal kind of mom
and I know that you really wouldn't want me any other way.
Maybe the things we do today will stick with us.
Perhaps you will find an old picture of us when you were little and you will smile,
realizing that we grew up together, more so every day.
I want to give you memories no one else has.
I hope you remember the times I would jump in the bathtub with all my clothes on
and how it made you giggle.
I hope you remember the way we would sing into brooms and dance with the vacuum.
Perhaps, as a woman, you know all the joy you brought me,
the moments of love I never want you to forget,
the moments of love I hope you always carry with you.
I saw you.
You can't deny it.
What's the purpose?
You already know I know too much.
I see the way you still doubt me.
I suppose that's all right.
You don't see beyond what I throw at you.
I won't draw in the sand for you.
If you want to know me, start digging.
I will give you the shovel.
I'm just too busy for games.
You're too old to be playing them.
You're too much like every other man out there,
lost in your own insecurities.
You don't think everyone else isn't afraid of being hurt?
You've injured me countless times and I am at least still standing here.
Go ahead and smirk again.
I will see it every time
but maybe you should put more effort into being a man rather than a coward.
Moments of weakness, I get them all the time but it is no matter.
My skin is as human as everyone else's even if it feels too tough sometimes.
I cry just the same, knowing the tears don't solve anything and it's just a release.
Aloof, it is only my nature on the surface.
I can show you a million other sides of me.
Can't we all though?
Aren't we all more than we seem?
I told him last night that I let people believe what they want of me.
In the end, we see what we want anyway.
I said that there were too many things people didn't want to see
including him but he still didn't get it and I still didn't care that much.
Every way I am beyond what I have but I play it off that this is all I have.
What does it matter anyway?
I have plenty of desperate times when I feel like tearing out of this body,
where I long for someone to grab hold and keep me from burning alive
but they pass, they return, and somehow I find control.
I have times when I wish I could sit with someone open the gates to my sadness, to the loneliness I keep too close to my heart,
and have them say nothing to try to bring me up, to just let me cry.
I won't ever admit that to anyone though, he always knew that.
I told him my life was different than his own.
In some ways I am far better off then him because I have a little girl who loves me.
He still didn't get it and I didn't care much.
Moments of weakness, I have them all the time but who cares?
This body is as human as everyone else's.
I want to make love far too often without the emotional attachment
but it never solves anything, just a release.
I told him last night that I needed him to leave...
A fix up, another man to waste my time with,
because the world believes I need to find a man.
She said, "We'll find you a nice boy."
I laughed in response.
What makes her think I want a nice boy?
Maybe I would prefer a lady for that matter?
Or anyone at all?
A woman on her own with a small child is a prime candidate for everyone's bachelor friend, I suppose.
She told me I needed to come over and meet the handyman on her patio.
He was cute and single.
I hung up the phone.
Everyone seems to have the "perfect guy" for me but I don't have time for that.
There are reasons people are single.
Maybe I have my own.
Maybe I like being on my own.
They all have someone for me, someone very nice and responsible,
but maybe I am just not ready for a nice boy.
Maybe I am having too much fun with the bad ones.
She never let my beer get too empty, always another round coming,
as we discussed the shambles of the world we live in.
It's always like looking in the mirror with her,
a reflection of myself lost in time, growing older.
She brings a part of myself back that no one else can touch.
I remember sitting with her, talking about the rest of our lives,
never really believing they would happen.
Brown hair dyed red and our halter tops are now sweaters.
We have come far but we have not lost our fight.
Every time we sit together it is as if we never left even if months have passed.
We sat on my deck, no longer the porches of our parents,
asking each other if we would do anything differently.
Looking at her, I knew I was right where I wanted to be
although another bottle of wine would have been nice.
Beat me a rhythm, I will dance for your eyes.
Watch as my feet go, the smooth curve of arches bare to the ground.
Let your eyes get lost in the bounce of my breasts
and the sway of my hips.
Fall in love, darling.
Watch the hair fall in my face as the fire casts shadows seductively on my skin.
I will cast a spell that will make your head spin.
You will be mine.
We will make ours.
Take my hand.
Dance with me, lover.
Let's get lost in this night.
Together we will fly beyond this reality.
See how I smile for you.
Laugh like star crossed lovers who fear not the dawn.
Small hands trace your spine as yours reach out for my smooth skin.
Lay me down, love.
At the end of the day, I'm just a girl who has been in love with writing her entire life. I am full of quirks, anxieties, fears, joys, laughter. And all I have wanted to do was give the world a smile.