Monday, February 19, 2007

It is quiet right now, and I can hear Dunkyn dreaming

I’m in one of those moods right now. Contented melancholy. I think that is a beautiful word, just the way it looks. Melancholy. It just flows. Can’t you just see it in old English lettering, tattooed down a tricep? Yum. Either way, that is the mood I am in right now. The kind of mood that if I was with the man I love right now, we would be curled up in bed, maybe with a candle burning, maybe not. His arms would be around me and I would be stroking the hair on his forearm. One of those nights where we would simply talk quietly, about nothing, about our plans for the summer, our dreams, the next fifty years, what kind of mix-in’s we would try the next time we went to Cold Stone. It wouldn’t get all hot and steamy, although there would be kisses. There should always be kisses. He would drift off to sleep first, and I would soon follow, serenaded by the lullaby of his gently snoring.
Tim McGraw is singing to me now about being angry all the time as I write these words. Wouldn’t really mind falling asleep in his arms either, now that you bring it up. I feel fragile at the moment. Not mentally, just in general. There are so many things I want to do with my life still, to accomplish, experience, give. Yet, there are, of course, no guarantees. How many hundreds of people’s lives ending were reported on the news this evening? I could easily have been one of those today, or any day for that matter. I think about my gorgeous, amazing cousin Gabe who died over three or four years ago now at the age of 26. I have often wondered over his death. We were very similar in many ways, but between the two of us, he had so much more to readily give. So much more natural grace and confidence. He would walk into a room and people would fall in love with him. The kind of man that was beautiful on the outside and twice as attractive on the inside. Why him? Why is he gone and I am still here? There are many experiences that I have had over the past couple years that I think of Gabe when I am going through them. Even attempting to write this new book, it is partially inspired by Gabe. From my point of view, Gabe lived every moment with passion and gusto, all the while never ceasing to sacrifice of himself for those around him. I have often wondered what he would have said, how he would have looked if I could have told him about me being gay. I wasn’t out when he died. However, if I only have an hour to spend with him, that would be one of the last things of importance to speak of to him. I really believe, though, he would have looked shocked and then simply smiled at me in his way and assured me of my worth.
People drive me absolutely fucking crazy with all their drama, pettiness, and selfish cruelty. Even more so, I am astounded at the vast number of truly beautiful phenomenal people we walk this journey with everyday. I know I should probably look at humanity and be overwhelmed with all the disgusting vileness of our species, and at times I am, but most of the time, I really think I can see people the way God must. They are wonderful, their depth, their complexity, their ability to give everything for what they are most passionate about. Even in the simple ability to create music, compose art, weave written words to form universes, astounding. I am sure God weeps for us daily with our questionable choices and daft hard-headedness, but He also weeps out of pure pleasure of His creations.
I am still wanting to say words. Not sure which ones, but there is some solace for me as I write tonight, whatever that means. However, the thoughts and feelings that are coming are not flowing in such a way that my fingers are able to capture them. Therefore, it is time for them to concede to their limited ability. Thanks for allowing me to use you as a stand-in for the arms that are not here to hold me as I fall asleep, for the ears that are not here to be carried to dreams by my rambling, for the heart that as of yet does not beat in synchronization with mine. For continuing to journey this path with me. Take a moment to be melancholy today, close your eyes, hear rain on the window, feel a fleece blanket around you, smell spiced tea at your side, smile quietly, and sigh.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I am so glad you are able to see the good in humanity. Your positivity positively uplifts me. hehe I tend to feel the opposite about humanity. I hold on to the rare good people I'm blessed to know - such as you. Melancholy bordering Nostalgia is something I can wallow in without falling into depression. It's almost a pleasant feeling in some strange way. Write on B, don't ever stop.