why aladdin

Do you know why, when anything halloween comes up, my first thought is Aladdin? Because you were Jasmine, and you were jaw dropping. My first thought is not aladdin. Its not the silly pants or the little hat. Its the braid, and the tanned skin, and the demure smile you wore. It was you. You are why I go to Aladdin.

There a thousand small ways that you have influenced my world. The memories I hold are only the ones I connect with you. 

I love the hunchback of note dame cartoon movie, always have. But after knowing you, it is my favorite, because you ARE Esmerelda. Beauty and fire and sass. You would rather burn than wilt.

There is a whole world out there untouched by you, but it is not a world I've ever wanted to see, because it would lack all the colors I love so much, the smells that bring me joy and peace, the sites that send my heart soaring. 

You are the color, and the warmth, and the light that turns Grey and dreary winter into vibrant and renewing spring. 

So yes Aladdin is my first thought on my costume, becaus Jasmine was yours.

All knotted up

It was one of the cutest and most endearing things you used to do. That should have been a clue that you were unhappy, when you stopped doing it. Now I miss it.

Whenever I would wear something that had strings around the neck, a hoodie or a jacket, didn't matter what, you would make a little know at the top and then braid it down as you talked to me. So simple, yet so loving. I could see the pure happiness on your face and the look you gave me was pure and innocent. 

Your small dexterous hands wove the strings and your eyes captured my gaze. It would take me forever to pull it apart, but I would happily spend an hour unraveling it if it meant you would do it again the next time you saw me. 

Now, whenever something I wear has strings, I debate on whether to cut them off or live with this tiny reminder of your innocent love everywhere I go.

pillow memory

There's a memory i have of you. You are laying on a pillow facing me, and I am facing you. Inches separate us, only inches between your eyes and mine, and I am looking into them.

Why does it feel like flying, why does my heart feel like I'm at the top of a roller coaster? Why does it feel like diving, as if I am held in waters cool embrace? Why does it feel like falling, down down down into an abyss.

Why is it whenever I look into your eyes I'm brought back to that moment, that memory, that feeling of flying, falling, and diving. 

Damn, cat

She did it again today. I was hiding in the bathroom, my heart into pieces on the floor, trying not to so too loudly. 

I couldn't move, and breathing felt like daggers. Just another line severed between us, no big deal. One less thing to talk about, one more thing to divide us.

I have to match your energy, and thats the part that makes me weep. Because I cannot love another. I am not free. I'm supposed to act single, act like we are just roommates, act like I have no interest in you beyond what any other man finds in a woman.

You've had years to deal with the pain and loss, and you are out of those woods and on a new path. I am just starting to get to the darkest part of the Woods.

We set a boundary, and you're lready testing it. Seeing how much you can say before i push back, but it is so raw for me. It feels like the last thread holding together the tapestry of our past. It's cut, but until I pull the pieces out your going to keep talking about it unraveling like its not the end of our life.

Then the cat cries at the door, again and again. Until I have to pull myself together and let her in. She walks in, walks around, and then leaves. And I'm so uncomprehending I just follow, and once I'm out of the bathroom I'm back in the world and the lid shut on that particular box.

Not trying to win you back

I worry that, when I say I am not trying to win you back, that you hear I am no longer fighting for us. That could not be farther from the truth. 

I am not willing to drag you back into the horrible relationship you managed to escape from. That would make me no better than the man I was that hurt you. That man is dead, as is that relationship. I refuse to allow myself to become that again.

That is part of the fight for us. I am fighting to make better habits, to do better, and to be better. Or myself, for the kids, and for you. I am fighting so that one day you might look at me and choose me, the me I become, to love. 

I cannot make you love me, and I do not want to be settled for. I want to become the type of man you reach for instead of one you fall back on. 

So I am not reaching for you, because I am not good enough in my own eyes. I am reaching for a better me. I am fighting for a better me, and in doing so I am fighting for a chance at a new us.

Cradle

 When will it stop I wonder, this desire to scoop you up and cradle you in my arms. When will the weight no my chest stop bringing me back to your head on my shoulder. When anything touching my sides does not remind me of your caress. 

I don't know if that is a day to look forward to, or a day to dread. I believe the day that I stop feeling these things may very well be the day I am laid in the earth, or my ashes are spread by the winds. 

Every touch I imagine, every dreamy caress, every hold I feel in the darkness of my mind forms the cocoon that holds me tight and keeps me safe. 

Even though I wish you were in my arms, it is the thought of you that holds me close.

Magical

December's going to be magical. That's what she heard, and I believe. I feel that. There was snow on the rooftops, our kid was singing Christmas music, and I pulled a Christmas sweater out of the drawer on a whim. 

I feel a shift, and I am going to place my hope and my energy into making sure it is a good one for her, and for our family. I want us all to wake up one day this month and just feel magical.