untitled

I came across an old journal of mine from 1999 into 2000. Taped to a page were two of your lipstick imprints that you had given me one day and said, "For your collection."

I only have three total, I think, but I did take them whenever the opportunity arose. After your eyes, your lips were my favorite part of you.

Placing my lips against one of the imprints did not bring back the feeling of kissing you, much to my disappointment.

Playing with food

We had the hardest time finding restaurants in Houston. The hotel was in that medical district, an oversight of mine because I wanted to be near the Butterfly Cave.

One great find, a cab ride away, was where we ate the plate piled high with Crayfish. Afterwards, they made fine puppets on our fingers, and to be so goofy with you reassured me that I could be so comfortable around you.

evolution

My relationship with the girls has changed. I do not want to say for worse, but it certainly isn't for better.

As I read to them, play with them, spend time with them it's as if the bond that held us all together is compromised and screams loudly, "we are a father and his two girls and a mother and her two girls."

I have a favorite piece of video that i took as you held C******* when she was a few months old. She woke up and it was later at night, so you brought her downstairs so we could be with her. She is so adorable in the video, making her little pucker faces, getting all excited and cooing. She made us laugh so much... I wish the video had your face rather than just the back of your head.

When L*** was a baby, we snuck in her room and filmed her as she slept. We wanted to capture it because she always slept with her butt up in the air, a common position for babies. I love how in the video you rub her back gently as we enter the room.

fine dining

One early date i had you over to my apartment for dinner. Years later, i cringed at how basic the dinner was - pasta and sauce. i clearly remember your face when you saw that i had put no effort into it. i am lucky that you wanted to see me again.

That night we ended up in my room and you asked me to brush your hair. This simple act was so moving: sitting on my bed as i brushed your long hair. i then ruined it by making it sexual.

i am so fortunate that you gave me so much room for these mistakes, and many others. It's a wonder that you put up with me as long as you did. Still,I find little sweetness in my errors.

pens & pencils

Being married to an artist has many advantages. My favorite is that when you doodled, the doodles where worth keeping. Those of us who cannot draw are envious of those of you who can.

I have several, collected over the years after you'd be on the phone, or just drawing as we talked. You probably didn't miss them, but I was always happy to put them in my journal.

Theatre

In October 2006 we saw Lion King in Boston with P** & I**. Going to see theatre with you was always a unique experience because of how serious you took it. You believed, as did I, that people should make it special by dressing up, not be so casual. It was another aspect of you that endeared me.

I always loved how you dressed so nicely, even when you dressed casually. And at time like the Lion King, you were somehow more lovely with your dresses, coats and shoes. Being with you at these times was like being on a first date all over again- I couldn't stop looking at you.

Nor could the drunk guy on the train who hit on you, asking for your "card." You were so taken aback... "My card?" It's an urban thing, we guessed. Afterwards I had a great conversation with him, but of course couldn't help but feel more fortunate than he because you were with me.

But today, I sense that you are indeed leaving my body, my soul, my heart. Although I am sad, at least I have some relief from the pangs of constant regret and sorrow.

happy anniversary

Today would have been nine years. The peace that came to me two days ago has once again been replaced with despair.

I always loved our anniversary, especially trying to find something to honor the traditional gift. My selections were never as creative as yours, but I was happy with most of my selections.

Each year I would look ahead and try and determine what I would get you for a fifteen, twenty or twenty five year anniversary.

For our ten year, I had planned to get another live butterfly, like the one I had at our wedding, so we could release it together again.

I had so many plans A*****, but none of them included not being with you.

relent

This afternoon, my prayer was answered; a peace came over me and suddenly it was all clear: I saw where we were wrong rather than always seeing where we right. You were gone from me, for at least a few hours.

And then I was taken aback by the fact that I missed you from being within me.

It may not last- I could very well breakdown tonight or tomorrow morning, my usual triggers, but if so at least I was temporarily relieved.

Still, I will end with a memory.

Our second date, we went to JG Goffs, which had been my hang out for almost a year. The waitresses who knew me were so sweet and attentive to us. We held hands over the table and didn't even touch the food we ordered, which never happens to me, and it was at that point I knew you were more special than any other woman I had dated.

i'm not there

All photos of me are gone from the house or piled in the girls' bedrooms. You have what you wanted: I never existed to you in any special way.

Once in awhile, I would offer to carry you upstairs to bed. You never thought I could do it, but would always let me try. I made it to our bedroom at least twice. A few times I'd make it only halfway up the stairs, but only because you would make me laugh and I'd start to drop you.

I can still hear your laughter. I wish I could hear mine.

Exsanguination

I just don't understand why the higher power, whatever force that rules the universe, won't take you out of me. I hate that every fiber and sinew still rings with your memory.

The knife and the pills killed my soul, as did you, but didn't finish the job and take the flesh as well.

every day is like sunday

Sundays are the most difficult now.

Every Sunday we couldn't wait for you to come home from work. We would talk about what mommy wanted for dinner and whether you would be home in time to eat with us? Who would put who to bed?

Then we'd read the paper and you'd always go for the crossword first, eventually giving up and handing it to me. I never told you, but I loved that you wanted my help, as I know you have more knowledge than I.

Snapshot

After we started talking regularly at the store, I would be drive up Phillips Street to work and occasionally see you leaving your house to walk to work. It always made me happy to see you, that smile, as you crossed to Elam Street.

I kept wishing I had the nerve to ask you out.

you just move forward while i watch your tail lights fade

Your voice is so matter of fact on the phone, asking me if I want this or that, it's a wonder we were ever close.

How many times do I have to tell you that I do not want anything that reminds me of our relationship? Given that I want the wedding album you probably wonder why I don't want the etching your mother gave me when we got engaged. Well, knowing that you are not sentimental, here it is:

We each received one as a gift from your mom, and they hung together on the living room wall for ten years. I cannot bear to see them split apart.

Digging in the Dirt

i wrote this on 7/10/97, a week before you asked me out.


7/10/97 for A** at different drummer

strange how the day keeps you
warm in the kindness of its sun
uncertain in the slow breathing of its clouds
opening and closing upon you,
as if to say "now i will swallow you,
your happiness, your completeness,
and leave you only the heaviness of rain."

then, it changes its mind, opens and comforts you
with it's burning orange eye, restoring you,
straightening you with its hands

when you speak to me, it is like this:
your beautiful smiles and lovely hesitance
return me to the sky, where angels with
tattooed wings kiss in dark coffee shops.

Your spring to my winter

i always found it interesting that i had written something for you two years before we started dating. i came, across it shortly after we fell in love. My notes said, "for amy at different drummer." It's not the best thing i've written, but clearly i was drawn to you.

5/12/95

i hold this cold within me year after year
i am one season: darkness, grey winter tears
six months at a time.

today, a warm finger of sunlight
stirred the ground inside, i cannot hide
your smiles find me like sun dripped light

gardening

Your gardens always made you so happy. Hands in the dirt, weeding, planning them for the season.

Even with a dirt streaked face, and old clothes, you looked so lovely, that smile when you noticed me watching you puttering in the yard.

And when they came, the flowers and plants seem to lift up the house, to a whole new light.

Two weeks ago I took off my wedding ring and gave it to you. Ever since them the thumb on my left hand looks for it throughout the day. Today I noticed that the indentation is starting to fade.

Mother & Child

I haven't wanted to talk about this, as it is the pinnacle of painful memories.

When my days would be bad, I would remember how you looked when both Lucy and Chelsea were born and they put them in your arms. Your mother captured the moments perfectly: you looked down on them with such love. Lucy's photo in particular is most expressive, because we had talked at length about her coming, our wanting to meet her,see what she would be like.

Why am I the only one of us who sees this and misses us?

Little birds

Saturday was one of the worst days ever. Packing up my things and going through photographs, I had to take a break every once in awhile and walk around, crying. It annoys me that you are still so much within me.

While the photographs caused much of the anguish, I found certain memories pleasant, such as our trip the butterfly museum in Houston. I had forgotten about that small bird landing on my shoulder, shortly before (after?) I asked you to marry me.

Surgery

You just don't understand.

Whenever I talk with you, on the phone or in person, I disconnect and start sobbing. Even a simple conversation about what time I will be visiting the girls sends searing knives into my heart.

I keep thinking they will surgically remove you from me, my one wish, but all they do is open me and let me bleed.

Falling Away

It's already becoming ugly. Not that I am surprised- your pride has been hurt, and that is one characteristic I have always known is your fatal flaw.

With every exchange, each memory of of us sours.

Well, with you- you just "go forward". Me, I don't mind looking backwards once in awhile....

and remember you laying on a blanket in our living room one night when I returned home, candles burning, smiling at me. Always so lovely.

Ghosts

On another of our early dates we laid on a blanket at the town beach and just talked for a couple of hours. You asked me what books I liked and told me yours. It was a beautiful summer evening and I thought to myself,

"Here is someone I can talk with for the rest of my life."

I suppose we will still talk, but without that anchor of love for one another. You're always a great conversationalist, so I am sure I'll enjoy it.