13 November 2000
about missing -|-
happy couple -|-
musings of señor prod. -|-
when I saw you
It's been months, years. I was amazed that I didn't miss you in all this time. But when you're
there before me, sly smile and winks, a beautuful face, a sweet, light scent, I miss you for
all that time, all at once. Your presence the only history of feeling, your absence an abstract
thing to measure. Out of sight, out of mind, apparently. But you were there this weekend,
and in the years since last we met, I thought of you not once, I even harbored secret suspicions
that you were a dullard, a capricious and uncertain mind in a vaguely-remembered beautiful form.
Yet in your presence, the scent, the calming hand-touches, your head leaning on my shoulder in
embrace, I doubted my own judgment. You can do that to me, more than anyone: make me uncertain
of myself. I was an adolescent again, trying so hard for your attention, trying to provoke another
display of affection from you, almost as though I were entitled to it. And I do know you, the
smiles and the touches and the hugs are always forthcoming.
And then, I'm ashamed of myself.
How could I corral you in my mind, box you in a pretty face with little else to offer? I dared forget
the hours upon hours we spoke, deeply, about unspeakable things, fears, former loves, even
one another's karmic predecessors, the people in our pasts who served the functions which we would
learn to fulfill in each other. And then, the karmic descendants, our next lovers or friends, your
current love who both engenders and is the object of all of my more base jealousies.
In the moment of our embrace, I missed you for all that time, all at once. But already, the texture
of your skin, your hair, your soft blouse, the curve of your form, are all blurring into their
former caricatures. I'm beginning to not miss you already.
When next we meet, and touch, and smile, I'll miss you then, overwhelmingly, purely, blindingly,
for all the time which will have passed like an ache.
So it was the weekend that Perry and
Karen got hitched. It has taken its place as the most aesthetically beautiful and amazing wedding
I've attended. She designed the most beautiful wedding dress I've seen. They had a whimsy cake.
Perry, at long last, and without any possibility of getting out of it, danced his first dance
with Karen in front of the 200-odd onlookers. I could go on, but I'll need some more time to
let the long message waiting to happen percolate a bit more in my head.
musings of señor prod.
Left in charge of the store... hanging in there. The Revolution's
got one less bachelor now.