well i woke up in midafternoon, 'cause that's when it all hurts the most . . .
Tomorrow is Jonathan Livingston Severson's one-year anniversary. It's also his 24th birthday. I don't . . . i don't know what to say, or to think. I'm not as unhappy as i expected to be today; let's hope that's also true tomorrow.
I still miss him desperately. I've actually had a lot of dreams about him lately . . . just really blasé dreams, where i'll visit his house or he'll call me on the phone and we'll have a conversation. The conversations are so real that i wonder if he's also dreaming about having a conversation with me . . . He tells me he's doing well, that his marriage is fine, that he misses me. There's always a lot more, though, just random shit like real conversations we used to have.
Dammit, i miss him. And i think, what if it had gone just a little bit differently? There's only the one issue that kept us apart -- just one. And . . . there are times i think i would have given up, decided to have kids, just to stay with him. I mean, i don't really *know* that i'd be a bad mother; it's just a strong suspicion. *wry grin* Of course i wouldn't have. It's a vocation, and i don't have it. But i wish, sometimes, that i didn't feel that way . . .
I made him a CD, just before he stopped talking to me. And the title track on the CD is still so keenly meaningful, and so much the way i feel, that i'm going to post it here:
Fourth of July
Today's the Fourth of July
another June has gone by
and when they light up our town I just think
what a waste of gunpowder and sky
I'm certain that I am alone
in harbouring thoughts of our home
it's one of my faults that I can't quell my past
I ought to have gotten it gone
Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older-
someday-
you'll wake up
and say, "My God, I should have told her-
what would it take?
But now here I am and the world's gotten colder
and she's got the river down which I sold her."
So that's today's memory lane
with all the pathos and pain
another chapter in a book where the chapters are endless
and they're always the same
a verse, then a verse, and refrain
Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older-
someday-
you'll wake up
and say, "My God, I should have told her-
what would it take?
But now here I am and the world's gotten colder
and she's got the river down which I sold her."
-Aimee Mann
I still miss him desperately. I've actually had a lot of dreams about him lately . . . just really blasé dreams, where i'll visit his house or he'll call me on the phone and we'll have a conversation. The conversations are so real that i wonder if he's also dreaming about having a conversation with me . . . He tells me he's doing well, that his marriage is fine, that he misses me. There's always a lot more, though, just random shit like real conversations we used to have.
Dammit, i miss him. And i think, what if it had gone just a little bit differently? There's only the one issue that kept us apart -- just one. And . . . there are times i think i would have given up, decided to have kids, just to stay with him. I mean, i don't really *know* that i'd be a bad mother; it's just a strong suspicion. *wry grin* Of course i wouldn't have. It's a vocation, and i don't have it. But i wish, sometimes, that i didn't feel that way . . .
I made him a CD, just before he stopped talking to me. And the title track on the CD is still so keenly meaningful, and so much the way i feel, that i'm going to post it here:
Fourth of July
Today's the Fourth of July
another June has gone by
and when they light up our town I just think
what a waste of gunpowder and sky
I'm certain that I am alone
in harbouring thoughts of our home
it's one of my faults that I can't quell my past
I ought to have gotten it gone
Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older-
someday-
you'll wake up
and say, "My God, I should have told her-
what would it take?
But now here I am and the world's gotten colder
and she's got the river down which I sold her."
So that's today's memory lane
with all the pathos and pain
another chapter in a book where the chapters are endless
and they're always the same
a verse, then a verse, and refrain
Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older-
someday-
you'll wake up
and say, "My God, I should have told her-
what would it take?
But now here I am and the world's gotten colder
and she's got the river down which I sold her."
-Aimee Mann