Listening To: Neverending Math Equation by Sun Kil Moon

There were several moments yesterday when I thought about seriously putting down this whole blog thing. I sometimes feel like it does me more ill than good. During several conversations with different people I realized that I was not over somebody that i thought I was. Since that moment of realization I have decided to simply move on with my mind and wait for my heart to catch up. I also asked for my book of Andre Dubus short stories back. There's an excerpt from a story she never read that I would like to post for all of you.
There's only so much we can ask someone to care for us and then the rest is just letting go. Sometimes, well, most the time we never get a response. It is the moment when the feeling is returned that we know we have found something worth holding onto. After critically examining my past relationships I have figured out that it takes me approximately twice as long as the infatuation/relationship itself to get over someone. I am, of course, talking about significant relationships. All the times I have woke up in strange beds, made out in bathrooms, squinted against the dawn as I tried to puzzle my way home are simply stops on a journey toward someone and something that is a lot more meaningful. If I never get to that destination then I will know that it was everyone in it that made the travel worth it.
I had an ex-girlfriend liken love and relationships to a ship sailing down a river. Sometimes people from the bank swim out to the ship and join for certain periods of time. Often they disappear and sometimes they reappear to take the journey with you. People wave at you from the banks,stormy seas, flooding, etc. I don't think that it is the strongest analogy, but it is something that has stayed with me for several years. 10. Could it be ten years? Wow.
And it is these oddities that become the hallmark of love and remembrance. These little anomalous details that seem so trivial and banal to other people, but mean the most to you. I found a poem I wrote 8 years ago around this time. It seems interesting to me that so much can change in 8 years and yet so much stays the same. Yesterday's entry was Pablo Neruda. Today's mine. Obviously, there is no comparison. But I thought it would be a good companion piece. And more importantly, maybe something that could help me close the door on certain aspects of my life that I would prefer to have closed. So, without further ado:

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Not feeling any need to call
I thought of her last night.
A black dress, a sunflower, a picture frame, a porcelain shoulder.
These things all decaying,
Blurring at the edges,
Wavering from a heat far away.

Now I ache to dance
In the middle of a fire
Scattering ashes with my bare feet
Throwing embers into the twisting wind.