And Was Becoming My Heart Beat



It's been awhile since I've visited my site- to write.  Life as of late has been very, very great. Except for the sometimes loneliness- driven for the want of a relationship- I find myself in a very good place.  I am quite content and though I most times walk around with a smile on my face and an aura of peace around me- what you don't see is my heart that sometimes staggers in beat  because of the tremendous longing, and desire for companionship- for love.

Over the past six and a half years there have been the "might have beens, could have beens...and the ones that got away," or more accurately, the ones that I walked away from after sometimes the "most incredible connections."  Connections which had me sitting on my couch, lying in my bed, walking, living- as if the other person was already a part of  me- like she was inside of me and was becoming my heart beat.  She would invade me without a moments notice and captivate the entirety of my being and as powerful as it was, I had to believe in those very moments, she too, was thinking deeply about me, missing me as much as I was missing her.  These connections were so strong and driven by such intense emotion- such an incredible longing and a perfect, fiery passion that in those moments she became my world and every image of my heart, mind, spirit and soul was about her.  I heard her voice, I heard her laughter, I rehearsed every conversation that we had- searching for clues.  Clues that would tell me concretely that this was not just an imagination and that it was real.  Clues that would give me the courage to share the true contents of my heart with her- every energy, every emotion, every dream, every passion, every desire- to take that ultimate chance that too many of us have walked away from- to become vulnerable.  These connections were sometimes so powerful that they would make my heart sink, literally, due to the certainty yet the uncertainty.  Many times it was so overwhelming that I would be moved to tears, literally- cry, softly-almost whisperingly- as I would resort to my greatest source, hope, and strength: God.  I would first ask him, "What's going on? Can you help me? Can you help me to sort this out, please?" Through my sometimes tear stained pleas I would continue, "Father, I've let too many go by- I've walked away from too many and let too many walk away. I can't take it anymore. It hurts too much.  Can you help me please? Show me what to do."  The tears would reside. The prayer would end, and I would be still sitting alone on my couch: thinking of her.  Sadly, even after the connection had come and gone. Had I blown it? Was I supposed to do things differently? Should I have struck while the iron was hot?  Did I listen too intently to the words of the wise: "Good things come to those who wait?"

Sometimes I couldn't help it.  It's in the look and it's in the eyes: when we were together and then parted.  It's in the way she said, "Bye! See you later," in a soft whisper and a gentle if she knew that if she sang it- almost magically it would cast a spell on me and bring me back to her.  It was the extended glance that came with it and a slight reluctance to turn away. It's in the way we sometimes hugged and how her hands would slide off of me slowly and the final touch would be the gentle touch of our fingers holding on for every last possible second.  It's in the way that, as we parted, we would turn again to each other just to get one more glance; one more look- one more smile and one more wave.  Then the days would pass...

Living again in the connection.  Rehearsing and living every last moment. Where do we go from here? Hearing her voice, her gentle whisper and seeing that amazing smile that only you could bring out in her.  The phone rings, and you pray for all eternity it is her...




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