-And here are a couple pics in reply to your text yesterday…  That might have been the first time you went over 150k/hr.  You were shitting yourself.

-How much penance must I pay?  How long?   To watch you live with another man… Build a home with another man…  Must I watch you marry another man as well?  Would you feel better then?

-Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here.  It’ll be a smaller gathering this year, but will still be plenty of fun.  Needless to say, I wish you were here to partake.

-I want to hold you like this again.  You’re the only person that ever felt right beneath my arm, against my chest, your lips to mine.  You belong there.  Our lips belong together, more so than anyone’s.  Please don’t wait too long.

-Packing, boxing, moving, schlepping, and repeat a billion times… Why aren’t you here to help me with this, so we can move into our new place?  You just went through this, so I’d imagine the thought of doing it again, even with me, gives you indigestion.

-I have less than a week to pack-up this whole apartment and get out, and it’s mostly being done by me alone.  I need your mother again.  Fortunately my mother is coming over to help today.  There doesn’t seem to be a lot here, however the more I pack the more there is.  I could use the help.

-I feel bad that I may have miscommunicated or that you may have misconstrued what I meant yesterday.  I’m sorry if the message came across as stern, but I hope you understand the essence of the sentiment.  Feel free to comment here and let me know.

-Tonight I’m going out with T## and his lady love.  I spent some time with them at T##’s place, and they’re a cute couple.  She really adore’s him, and in all the years I’ve known him I have never seen him gush, until now.  It’s very cute.  A foursome for dinner would have been great, but you’re a million miles away.  Put down the paint brush and come home to daddy already.

-Please understand that there will be a full range of thoughts and emotions here, from light to dark, expressing my hope, my pain, my anger, my memories…  It makes me happy that you thought of me and sent me a quick note.  What I really meant, and I’m sure you understand, is that after two weeks the occasional text from you isn’t substantial enough.  I know, I’m pushing my luck, but I’m all-in on this one, so I’ll push it as far as I respectfully can.

-I’m sitting on the sofa watching Forrest Gump with my right arm outstretched, and for a moment had what must have been a flashback of you underneath it, snuggling, getting comfy so you can sleep through the rest of the movie.  I felt you.

-The first thing to go is the desperation.  The urgent feeling of needing to see you.  It is waning.  I think it has to do with your lack of communication.  It speaks as loudly as your voice.  An intoxicated text just doesn’t really say anything substantial.

-I’m not inspired to write anything today.  I’m glad you felt nostalgic and emboldened by the champagne enough to text me yesterday.  It’s always nice to hear from you, especially randomly.  You were painting your living room and drinking champagne.  A nice image.  It once again makes me wonder how and why you stick with him and further build your nest when you think of me while doing those things.  Is it that you wish you were doing them with me now, or in another life, or that perhaps we might share this in the future?   Because if the message is solely nostalgic, as nice as that is, I would really appreciate you not sending it.

-It’s moving day for you, so you must be excited. The thought of it is making me mental, but I didn’t really have far to go anyway, did I? You nesting with someone else makes me gag. I hate that I wish you less happiness than you deserve (over there), but that’s what I feel at the moment.

-A house is just a thing. With a little spit and polish, you could flip an old Victorian house, no problem.

-Two full days, and damn I miss you. Just got back from dinner and drinks with GXX. He wanted the update. He was very encouraged, but I told him that though you may have let your heart out of its cage to fly around freely for a few days, it’s back inside now, sitting on its perch, whistling a melancholy melody that reminds it of me. I’m buzzed but mostly tired, so I’m going to sleep. XO

-Last night you made love in your new house. It’s not possessiveness that I’m feeling, but an envy that it should be and hopefully will be our house and our love-making. I don’t even know if you’ll read these, but they’re here and they’re a tortuous record.

-Fuck you

-Nothing from the peanut gallery again today, eh?  Perhaps tomorrow.

-I went for a walk down on Main Street for lunch, and saw a 40-ish guy and his reasonably younger wife holding their little baby, and the thought sprang to mind that I don’t want to create a child, a life, with anyone other than you. What smart, extroverted, introverted, and silly kids they would be.

-I have a not-so-small request… If all goes well, the house should be done in early-to-mid January. I would love nothing more in this world (other than marrying you) than for you to be the first woman I make love to in my new bed, in my new house. Though I’m laughing at the absurdity of this request, as I’m sure as shit it’s futile, I at least wanted you to know that I think that honor should be yours. Incidentally, I could swear that I saw on some website that Moksha or Modo is having a three-day seminar around that time on tantric ass play or proper breathing techniques during pooping, or something like that. You really might want to look into it, lest you miss out on some very important things. Good night.

-And what the heck will you do when this boyfriend of yours proposes to you? And you know he will if he’s got any kind of mish-mashed brains in his Canadian cranium. Do you make a decision only then? Do you say yes half-heartedly and possibly end-up like you did before, or (worse) like your sister(s), stuck in small, one yogi town (not that that’s a bad thing), knowing your could have done so much more with your life? Aaaaand… you’re off the pill!!! Cheese-and-Rice!!! I can already see it…   One cold, winter night, you’re going to back that beautiful, buff booty into his groin (vomit) to spoon, and some horny accident happens. Then you’re truly stuck. If your feelings were as deep for him as they are for me, and you didn’t have any desire to leave KW, then sure, why not.   Make a go of it. But from what I’ve heard you say, and from what I know about you, and I know a lot God damnit, that just doesn’t seem to be you.

-Now that I know you’re reading this, I’m imagining in the mornings you hunkering-down at your desk in your office with a freshly whipped-up (insert favorite coffee/tea substitute here), firing up the office computer and reading this like the daily news paper. Maybe I’ll start to format it that way. However for now, a word from our Spanish sponsors… “Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero. No puédo imáginar un futuro sin ti, sin nosotros. Eres todo que yo sé que quiero en el mundo (aparte de el éxito, un lindo cobrador dorado, y paz en el Oriénto Médio). Dígame que me regresa a mi. Regresa… Regresa… Regresas a la vida que empezamos. Regresas, mi amor.

-A weekend of packing and budgeting. How exciting. I will squeeze-in some yoga, as I have this past week. If anything, you are inspiring for me to further pursue my practice. Besides the obvious physical benefits, I can more-or-less tune-out erratic thoughts and focus, at least for the hour. It’s going to be redonkulously warm here this weekend (26!!!). I’ll put on my Chinese rice paddy straw hat and roll with the top down. I can’t put my face in the sun because of the chemical peel. I don’t know if you’ve ever had one, but the results are nice, but my skin is coming off in sheets. It makes it interesting to go out when your nose skin is hanging in your cocktail.