My tongue is in my hand…

Posted on: January 23, 2010

It’s strange, sometimes it just hits you. That something, the thing you’ve been holding your breath for, moving towards, believing is at some time in the future going to be yours, something that has mattered and moved you…something so incredibly vital to your hope…to realize, with one solid moment, that it’s over. And no, it never began, so, technically it’s can’t end, but you know it was real to you and now you know it’s not… It’s possibility is over. Because it never was one. and you finally see that. It’s not yours to even shoot for.

I saw something, so trivial, that made me realize it’s incredibly unfair to hope for you for myself, in any capacity. I have years and baggage and brokenness that you, I know, have no interest it, that you don’t need. You need something cleaner, something freer, somthing that fits what you want to be more than I can, because I’m bearing my consequences and they are ceaseless, unremitting. I don’t fit where I want because I chose what I chose and that means I can’t hope for you. I have to just try to get out of this with my eyes elsewhere. Only on myself, only me, my daughter in my mind’s eye. You, I can’t put you there. Your mind’s eye is your own. I can’t will you here, even sincerely, even lovingly. I weigh too much to subject you to, and I know you see it. I’m so silent, so solemn, I can’t do this to you, try to keep you woven in…

And still, this quiver of a thought…what if you follow your mind’s eye, and it coincides with mine?

Even in letting you go, I carry this hope.

I am still set on this aren’t I?


1 Response to ""

… one of these days bex, hell or high water, you and I are going to sit down across a cup of coffee and have this conversation. And you are going to have to tell me this story.


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