After all these years, I am almost ashamed that I crammed so many of the wonderful essences that make you, you, into a dark corner of my mind and literally tried to forget them. I think it was because it hurt too much to see what I wasn’t ready for, and
walked ran away from.
But I couldn’t have totally forgot, because I knew that I loved you like no other, knew that I never would find what I had with you, with another, and never got over you. I mean NEVER. Not a single day went by that I didn’t think of you. Sometimes I would become wistful, others, hurt, others, angry, but always there was love.
I’ve just come home from you. You are by now on your motorcycle, heading East and I am at home, smelling you and your shower on me in the most delicious way. My heart feels so full, like it’s dripping just for you and me. My eyes are moist and I have this urge to just let it go and escape as the residual effects of you, course through me.
Does any of this make sense? And will I ever tell you of these moments, or let you know of these privately public musings of you? You make my whole body tremble, and I always finish by kissing your third eye. Do you notice this?
Did I have to fall in love with humanity as a whole, in order to able to have this falling in love with you? Even though I never totally fell out of love with you? It could remain unspoken for eternity, and I would still know it. I see how you look at me, and feel how you touch me, in the simplest acts; like bandaging my finger after cracking crab, or how you wash me in the shower. Ever so tender, loving, and attentive.
There is still a small part of me that is scared shitless, because you make me want it all. I don’t mean the dress and the name, but I mean your heart and your soul; forever. Till the day your body, or my body takes the last breath. Even then, I will continue loving you, and I know this. I’m not so much scared that you will never feel the same, it’s more so the absence of the fear of believing that I don’t deserve you or you will find out somehow I am a fraud. I know that I have shown you who I really am. This, feels rather ballsy, for lack of a better word.
I remain so fucking grateful.
Every time I hear Freddy, I miss my older sister. Sometimes I am not clear if the tears I weep at Freddy are for the non-relationship I have with my sister, or they are the process of mourning the loss of the gift of Freddy.
I think it is the loss of love.
Freddy, as I have learned from listening to him speak, is all about love. Freddy sang about love, because he loved love.
My older sister, was my first best friend. EVER. I loved her, and I still love her today, but we do not speak.
Perhaps the tears that keep falling as I watch all the bio programs on Freddy today, the anniversary of his death are for the loss of the expression of love.
My sister and Freddy are intricately connected in my world, when my sister choreographed a dance to the song Bohemian Rhapsody. She taught it to me. As a child, I spent HOURS with that album. My nose was buried in the lyrics sheet and I would stop whatever I was doing when mom played A Night at The Opera, and curl up on the floor near the heater vent, and read along.
I can rejoice in what Freddy left behind. It will never die. Freddy Mercury will live forever, as long as there is a way to let his songs play.
I don’t have many things tied to my sister that don’t eventually bring a tear to my eye…because of the chasm between us. My hope is that one day, we can love one another again. Not that either one of us has ever stopped…but the space between us has gotten so big, I don’t know if it can ever come together again. Nothing will ever stop the hope.
Not even death has stopped the love of and for Freddy Mercury.
How I love reading the blogs of people who follow me.
I have my favorites, and all for different reasons. You writers and bloggers are an AMAZINGLY diverse group of humans and I appreciate that! I also get off on the fact that through such diversity, we have found ways to connect with others. it makes me feel so much closer to one. Like as things get bigger, we actually become closer to one.
I’ve been thinking of sharing some of you. I guess in a way I already do. There are a few blogs in my blogroll, that I have added as a result of Word Press blog trawling. Ms. Coco J Ginger is an example. I fell in love with her from my old blog. Her love-affair with her pen, her youth, her depth of connection in her youth, her beauty, all captivated me…so I shared her and she is one of the few people I have used that little re-blog button on. I adore her spirit and passion. I think others would too.
Then there is my longest subscriber here at Version 2.0. He followed me from my old blog, though I am not sure if he knows I am the same person. I did not announce a new blog and new screen name, I just left due to personal family reasons. Unwilling to have my words used against me out of context. One day all of a sudden, there was a current subscriber, now subscribing to my new blog. He takes AMAZING pictures and I think you would agree. Canadian Hiking Photography is breathtaking.
This morning I read another one of you.
I’ll be processing you for a bit before I share you, but again…Thank you to all of you I am meeting on my journey. The unity and contrast are really a thing of beauty to me and I express gratitude for the words we all share. After all words are a powerful thing of beauty, creation is a thing of beauty, connecting is a thing of beauty.
What a nice recipe!
With absolute gratitude and love,
I want to thank you for the “likes” recently.
This is my second WordPress blog. My first one I was not really anonymous. I never used my name, always a screen name, but I would show my face, and talk in ways that made me much less anonymous.
I had words used against me, out of context by family. This happened at the same time I was breaking and waking. I shut down one blog, opened another, and did nothing for a while. I brought very few links in my blogroll with me from my old site.
I had a respectable amount of followers. I never went big, but I had a group I knew, and they knew me. I know I have a thing with writing, that not all people have, but at the same time…I know I am not nearly as gifted many of you I read.
One of you also was a reader at my old blog, and I think you know I am her…the one who said something to you about Hadiya Pendleton and Michelle Obama.
My point is, I just wanted to say thank you for the support this week. The small simple act of clicking that little button, made me feel connected in a way I wasn’t getting in my offline world. I don’t really like that my personal creativity, sharpens when tshtf, but I am grateful to know I wrote something that caused people to let me know I was being heard.
I thank you all for the energy, and would like to return it in kind.
And with absolute love and gratitude,