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Deja vu

05 Jan

I don’t remember how it began. Well, I do, but it’s all foggy right now. The sun shone brighter then. The sound of the birds in the morning was music. Coffee tasted better…it always does no matter the circumstances for me anyhow. I watched the sunset with a smile upon my face each single day. Even my dimple was deeper. Just kidding…it’s always deep even when I am bawling my eyes out.
The interesting part of it was that i didn’t even know his face. I knew his soul though. A heart that writes poems so beautifully, crafts words on paper so magically is automatically beautiful to me… your opinion doesn’t matter on this. It’s the truth. I woke up to poems from him. Okay then skeptic, well arranged words that had the lilt of his voice and the timbre of his deep laugh.
There’s a lot to be said for a man that can make you laugh. We used to talk. Late into the night. Early in the morning. There was a familiarity to us. Like long lost souls finally re-united. As soon as we got to know each other, I knew an adventure was about to begin. As soon as i heard his voice. His laughter. The way i got goose bumps and a delicious shiver running up my spine. I knew I was in. I was hooked. Helplessly. Hopelessly. Willingly. He was like a high I could afford just a click away. It was like putting on your old comfortable sneakers and going for a long relaxing walk blasting some rock music.
They say people have a way of romanticizing the past. A way of making things from way back look and sound much better. I think they were referring to me when they penned that particular line…whoever “they” are. But really, I was happy. The chirping of the birds found me already out of bed…the sunshine kissing my face and my hands making all sorts of signals I knew he couldn’t see. My smile plastered all over my face.
I am a sucker for words. When they say people come into your life for all sorts of reasons, i believe it. He was my muse. Somehow i wrote better and freely ever since we met. I started blogging. All sorts of mushy poetry for him. In hindsight is shouldn’t have deleted that blog….*sigh* . I think we met so that he could awaken the dormant writer in me…and I use that word royally.
Words acquired new meaning to me. He is a brilliant writer too. He is an artist. In ways I didn’t realize then, he challenged me intellectually and in a million other ways. He drove me to the edge. Metaphorically of course. Both in innocent and other not so innocent ways. With him i experienced all emotions in spade-fulls and at the same time. A cocktail of feelings in a name. Joy, anger, happiness, desire…i could go on …but you get the drift.
We still talk of course. The anger comes at times. But you have to push it off the edge. I burned the bridge of holding grudges. Other feelings at times tease me to. Nobody is a grown up as far as desire is concerned. I was never good with wearing masks anyway. I tried one for size and failed so impeccably well that I am still reeling from it.
To steal a line…the longer I have lived, the more I realize I am never wrong and all the pain I have so humbly taken to verify that notion have only wasted my time.

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2 Comments

Posted by on January 5, 2015 in Muse, Writing

 

Tags: ,

2 responses to “Deja vu

  1. Joey

    January 9, 2015 at 12:57 pm

    Awesome piece!!!

    Like

     

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