fantastic fleeting and out of reach

Most days I wake up and ignore the screaming question. I have mostly tuned out what cannot be faced or answered. But it keeps at me, it comes in the many unoccupied moments of my current situation.

Damn. Bon Iver.

I cuddle what will not leave, what cannot be left.

In the back of the book I am currently reading, I saw a question......"have you ever quit your job to follow a dream?" Haunting.

Dreams don't lead, or maybe they do, like a butterfly leads......off into a meadow and over a cliff.

That's a bit dramatic. I blame Bon Iver. What you can't see in text, is an important part of this explanation, so I'll tell you what belongs at the end of that last sentence.....it's a sheepish grin.

What brought me here? How on earth did I end up spending my waking moments in this place?

And, most importantly, do I want to stay here?

For once, I have no idea.

On my walk to work yesterday, I saw a tiny child on a tiny scooter calling an older child on a skateboard "dad". Shit, I thought, if he can do it, what is wrong with me? Not the first time I've had that thought.

Sure, the cool wheeled couple on the sidewalk look happy enough, but there was probably a wake up call that came too soon, perhaps a fight over an outfit or a meal. And the diapers before that, and then in years to come there will be disappointments and then she'll leave him and he'll miss her. I don't know. It's a lame story, but it has gotten me here instead of pre-school shopping. Which brings me back to the question.

I live near the airport. Anytime of the day I can see the airplanes coming in, taking off, being taxied.

But it’s like watching horses in a paddock or horses being ridden…..I just want to BE there. It’s a tease. Somehow though, being teased is better than not. I can imagine volumes from the tease. And imagination…….

Back to the airport. A plane takes off today, flying out over the sea into the distance. And I imagine myself there, in a window seat, above the sea, heading somewhere else.

That is my constant. Somewhere else.

Some people stay. They become rooted. People visit places to holiday and then go back to their beds. And I never get satisfaction from that. I want to go and go and go. I am gazing wistfully at airplanes always. So it goes. Is there a such thing as a traveling beekeeper massage therapist horse woman?

Ah, so.....god I miss you. You have no idea the lengths to which I have to go to to cope with our distance. So, love suffers sometimes. I have no baby to miss but I miss you so entirely I cannot fathom a deeper longing. Longing to touch your skin, to hold you and cry for the miles and months that separated us and then to dance close and long until we must sleep, and then near each other. To wake and talk and not talk and just bask for hours in physical presence. And if I have to leave you again after that, I'll have to do it drunk. And carelessly. Any other way could not be possible. Kisses my love. All over you.