Looking out the window in the morning after the hangover and sweat has dried, sleeping on your couch, you are gone but left a note on the towel. The grey clouds pass outside over the city, the sirens sound. I feel lonely, I am attracted to you but it’s a flash. I don’t know if you feel the same way. And when you dance: dark, thin, smile, mysterious, sensual. I can’t get enough, can’t take my eyes off. I dreamt of sleeping with you. But it wasn’t meant to be.
And my lover, the one who’s heart I was starting to understand. Something beautiful started, but unable to bloom. This is what they mean by tragedy. You are married, have a comfortable life. Soul mates indeed.
And I’m learning about destiny, or what it can mean. Learning to believe in more than myself, and my decisions. Things are connected in strange ways that I can’t see now. Believing that everything will work out for the best in some way, some day. This is faith.
My ears are ringing in the early morning, as I write this. The wine has yet to take effect. Soon I will wake early, and continue on as I should.
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