my email needs more cleaning

For the most part, I'm over it. Enough time has passed that I realize it wasn't a good situation. But there are times where I wake up out of a dead sleep and remember how well she fit into my arms. How her body, uniquely cool to the touch, notched in; while the window behind me provided enough airflow for the invitation of sleep to take place. How physically, it just worked. mentally at times too, but I was constantly reminded to not get comfortable in that emotional place.

Its cool mornings like today that I miss the idea of her most. When I was there previously, I made a mental note of how comfortable things were. Comfortable temperature, comfortable caresses, comfortably predicted early morning smiles, followed by the observation of morning rituals. I miss the idea of having the opportunity, almost daily, to interpret with my own eyes such a beautiful creature. I miss that time frame.

I'm told that there are people who appear in your life that, for whatever reason, we just never get over. That no matter how hard the attempt is made, for whatever reason, they just don't leave your mind. In the past I've had absolutely no issue wiping clean the memory of somebody I trusted enough to have shared intimate moments with. This one though...This one is rough, and it scares me as to not know why.

dear world: thanks for last night

The customized method that we all develop to help deal with loss is a right of passage as a human being. Some people shut down, some seek help from others, some ignore, some rationalize. regardless of how, there is always a method established via trial and error that hopefully serves its purpose.

Then, there's my may. For the most part, I accept my reality, but do so with a keen knowledge of what makes for a uncontrolled downward spiral. I ride that line far too often it seems; but i do so in an effort to not take shit for granted. Some people seek a surge of adrenaline in an effort to reassure themselves that they are in fact alive. I think, to an extent, I do the same thing with my emotions. Rarely do I invest fully, for good reason.

It was on a refreshing summer evening's bike ride that it hit me. My new two-wheeled transport came without lights, and once the summer sun had set, the streets became a river filled with unknown obstacles and hazards. Distant lights illuminated innocuous bumps and divots, but I perceived them to be course altering obstructions. Street lamps only lit up the path a third of the time, forcing me to make the decision. So there I was. In a comfortable, semi-unknown environment, with people whose friendship I cherish, trusting that everything would work out as my reimbursement for the decent karma I have projected over the last few months. Riding on a summer night like I had done many times before in my youth, trusting for the first time in what would be the greater part of 17 years, that as long as I soldier on, everything would be alright. graciously, I acknowledged and accepted this moment of peaceful zen.

Then a bug flew straight into my eye.

With a bloodshot eye this morning I wonder: do I accept last night's moment as a gift? or was it a slap in the face from reality, letting me know that my acceptance for the worlds actions was nothing more than a hoax, and a way to deal with loss. There's no denying I am in a transitional period, of which the main objective is to find a new way to deal with things. But how far do I look into things? Have my losses caused me to read too far into a summer nights bike ride? I hope not. Because last night, although insignificant to most, was significantly special to me.