january 25, 2025
saturday
Before I begin to explain to you the story of why I am here, on this Sunday evening, alone in the park, I must explain to you how I first came to be in this position. The position of longing that is. See soon you will learn that I am not one to be shy with what I know. Well actually, well I rather just lied to you, forgive me i didn't mean to feed you false compliment of myself. It is true, I am rather shy but please tell me one soul you know that has been hesitant on the act of love-oh my! I just spoiled the story for you! Well yes, as you guessed it, my story is that of a problem. It could seem like a very simple problem to you, and you possibly could have a reasonable explanation for my confusion but I beg you to please not interrupt. I do not need pity nor do I need the words of a perfectly good stranger like you to eat me alive. You seem to be fairly intellectual and I fear you will give me an answer that I am afraid to hear so again, I beg please do not interrupt. Now I shall begin.
It began one night, a very odd night. That day seemed to be full of pleasant surprises and bottles of wine. I decided to take a walk down the street, it was already dark and quite cold but the street light showed just enough light. The night sky was filled with little sparkling stars, someone once told me how the night sky and stars reminded them of spilled salt on a glass table, it makes you look at them a little differently right? My goodness who could spill so much salt! Anyways, I found myself upon a bridge and walked along the stretch to the center and there I sat looking at the spilled salt. I found myself in a string of thoughts and began to remember an old friend. I smiled at the memory but quickly forbade myself to ever think such a thought. You may wonder why the smile of an old friend scared me half to death but you dont know his eyes. Oh how I wish you knew his eyes, even you would fall in a spiraling well of his desire. There upon that lonely bridge I pleaded to the moon:
Lust or love- I cannot tell for I am stuck beneath your bedding and I have crawled my way into the depths of your arms but the flickering flame of your tapered candles whisper to me in my ear that I must put out the fire. Oh how I begged the flame to tell me why- why must I leave such a wonderful thing? As I cried out my question it was far too late, my fingertips were singed and clasped together over the death of a beautiful flame. Oh I flung myself onto the ground and pleaded out of desperation, how I cried and cried, why you would've thought I cried an entire sea!. Then all of the sudden I had a certain thought… I had more matches in the drawer! So I picked myself off the floor and ran down the hall. Why I was in such a hurry my hair fell loose and I lost my ribbon! But none of it mattered. I kept on running. Finally I reached the kitchen and grabbed the little old box of matches from the drawer. And oh my when I lit the match I was so bound to the glow of its light but soon I realized its flicker was not right. Quickly I blew the flame out and lit, again, another match. This time I was not fooled by its mockery of a trance and I blew that one out too when it showed me no good. Soon enough my box was empty and the lingering smell of fire surrounded my house. There I found myself once again on the floor, pleading for an answer of whether I pursue the feeling of lust or act on the feeling of love. What a foolish woman you must think of me but here I am standing before you, no longer pleading or crying a whole new sea for I wish to tell you how the tapered candles on your bedside table spoke to me that night. How out of fear I singed my fingers and washed it immediately away, how now my fingers are still singed with the ash of your candle and how I can not forget the feeling of the burning glow. Oh please think of me as a foolish woman for I am a fool who is tied in a foolish web of love.
The moon lay silent and so did I. There I sat confessing my unforsaken, forbidden thoughts realizing that it is only I who is scared.
Now you know all of my pitiful sighs and how I thank you, truly, for letting me sing all throughout your ears. You are an intellectual, I was right! Forgive me but if you weren't you would have blindly stopped my song and have leaned in for an unwanted kiss, i have seen the movement of your eyes as my tale was very poorly told. Though I have begged for you to give me no answers… I plead to you more than I did to the moon, for what is a foolish woman like me supposed to do? I fear I have already answered my own question but I cannot help but also fear I am reading it all wrong! Oh please tell me dear intellectual, please tell me how to unchain myself from this dreadful pain of falling in love! My goodness! Oh my, oh my, please, dear intellectual, please forgive my lack of companionship, I do consider you a companion now I hope you do not mind. Now tell me my dear intellectual companion, what is your name?
y.m.r