pain ball

I don't even feel the need to talk to you right now. I roll the pain around like a little ball from my left breast to the right one, the memory of you kissing them escapes my mind but I remember how you first touched them, how you carefully put your hand around them like holding birds in your hands, and your hand were my nests and I learned how to love you and how to accept this wonderful and incredibly percious gift of your love.
Then I roll the little pain ball in my hands and let it dry in the wind and as I am listening to 'Lay Lady Lay' the first memory of me and my family being in France and Northern Spain unfolds like a flower in the early morning sun and then the smell of past summers transforms into our love and long - seemingly long forgotten - text messages like 'why wait any longer for the one you love when he is standing right in front of you' pop into my mind and instead of crying again I just crown the little ball with one uncried tear and make friends with it.
I will draw from this as I've drawn from our happier times. It's all the same. The hours spent waiting and longing, the hours spent missing, fighting, cryingm, laughing, talking, loving, trying, failing...It all sums up to who and what we are and it will lead to who we become...and it was and is great and beyond words. Nothing is perfect - fortunately I say. But beautiful.
I will always love you. I always have.