Now and Then

I find you in my dreams or the moments before waking. I am reaching for you, calling your name softly into the darkness behind my eyelids. I pry myself away from reality and its harsh lights and aching skin, searching for you in the mold-able blanket of time and space. A feverish dream of coming off a plane and into your waiting arms. In so many ways I am already with you, already walking off the plane hitching my bag up my shoulder and peering into strangers’ faces… looking for the one that feels somehow familiar. In some ways I am living in the future–as I walk these streets in a haze–months from now throwing myself carelessly across your bed as if I own it; as if it is somewhere I belong. But, I am here, too. In the most violent of nows. The immediacy of the every day and each new experience that is at once a startling discovery and a loss–one less day, one less new thing to find. Athens is amazing. Often, I catch myself grinning for absolutely no good reason. Blending in and unfurling to the sun. Finding myself in the foreign experiences that are in some ways more familiar, more right than I have been used to until now. Opening these doors to a new outlook, a different way of living, and finding in so many ways that I already fit in. I don’t need to understand the entire language in order to communicate; you can find love in and outside the words.

My heart is full to bursting with life. With the joy of this life, this moment, now. Jealously you wanted me to yourself and now you will find that when I come to you, finally, at the end of all these travels I will be more. So much more than I could have ever have been before. I am already more vibrant, more at peace, more myself than I could have ever dreamed to be. This after two weeks. Every moment is a gift. It’s terribly cliche. But, there you have it. I intend to open this one slowly. Savour it. Who knows, maybe I am saving the best for last.

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7 thoughts on “Now and Then”

  1. This was beautiful. I’m glad you didn’t let me hold you back, and I’m glad you’re so happy. I hope I can be as enriching to you as this trip.

    I can’t wait to read a book across from you on that bed.

  2. This line made me cry and I can’t explain exactly why:

    Jealously you wanted me to yourself and now you will find that when I come to you, finally, at the end of all these travels I will be more. So much more than I could have ever have been before.

    It was a happy cry.

  3. You’re a tremendous writer, with great power. You somehow are able to deftly avoid the arrows of triteness and cliche. Damn, you’re good.

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