Blue Jeans

Going to record myself speaking this (as it’s meant to be spoken not read) in the very near future, will post here. 

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 Five months ago I was alone. Don’t get me wrong, I was there by choice for I have a hunter’s soul. I am more at peace when I am not Jon The Person but rather simply Man. When I walk alone through the forest without individuality and when the rabbit sees me, it sees man, when the bear sees me, it sees a boy because all man are boys to bears, when the sun shines down upon me, I am merely man and when I am man I can leave my thoughts behind and just be silent, still, at one with the universe….peaceful as I ride the waves of instinct and desire. 

Two months ago I met you. You were wearing a beige and blue jeans and had a mirror in your hands. Looking into that mirror and I saw myself, realizing once again that I am not Man, but rather Jon….Jon The Person. And I saw you, too. Looking to each other we began "Hey, how are you, is everything well with you?" and thus began our daily conversations. Right from the start somehow you snaked under my defenses and curled up inside me, smoldering. You felt right, more like a long-lost lover who intimately knows my hidden hallways and corners than the stranger you actually were.  How could two months feel like ten years? 

It’s a brand new day and I’m walking on a dream. All around me are flecks of raw potential, they shimmer like little fireflies and I can hardly choose. I’m a kid in a candy store with not enough time and oh my fucking god, look at all the chocolate. 

One word without others means nothing, there’s no context. What significance is a beast with one cry? How could you tell what it’s feeling, what it’s thinking without more? Even the wind has many voices, and so I struggle, I reach out and grab the shimmers out of the air and force them to the page, into my throat and I turn to you; 

"Hey…I’ve been working on something. I want you to hear, but be gentle, I know I’m not the best but it’s sincere. Probably it’s too much and it’s certainly too soon but….but don’t be scared, okay? It goes like this…."

You are the push of that double-quilt on my 6-year-old body, pinning me in place, restricting,  but at the same time warming my soul and I feel safer than I’ve ever felt before. 

You are that burn, inside and out, that threatens to become a conflagration. A dance of flames, a firework, boom.

You are that soft of wings upon my cheek, butterfly kisses, monarch, all oranges and blacks. 

Mara, what a beautiful name. Mara, Hindu goddess of death and sensual pleasure. It suits you, well maybe not the death bit, but when I think of your lips on me and your body against mine, well….

And there I go again, I’ve lost track of myself thinking of you. What I meant to say was you inspire me. My time with you sets my mind on fire and my body thrums. This feeling inside builds and builds and I have to move and so I write, my heart flowing into this pen as I try to capture the afterimages. I feel beautiful. I am the southern sun and I shine. This is the way you make me feel, I am ephemeral, I am the backdrop, the sky to your star, the sea to your boat. I want to give you wings….

Now, I know that this probably can’t last forever and likely won’t, I know that. I’ve learned hard lessons since grade school when I still believed in fairy tales and fairy tale endings, when I still believed in true love. I just need you to know, I need you to see how special you are, just in case your parents didn’t tell you, just in case you have a day when you feel tiny and insignificant, just a little ant beneath an enormous foot, just in case you are ever unsure.

You are beautiful. Your mind is beautiful and you have my most heartfelt gratitude that you have shared it with me. I appreciate how you make me smile and laugh when I’m too busy being sad or angry or whatever to see the epic positive potential in the world around me, when I forget the sounds the wind makes as it whispers through the trees, the way I feel small beneath the stars, the way I glow when you smile. And I appreciate your patience, how do you do it, and how you can bring me around to your point of view when I’m stuck on a fallacious one, because I am good at that, I am good at being wrong. Booyah. I know you are jealous. 

…I could go on and on, but I won’t. I’ve probably already said too much. I hope you understand that I had to, like old faithful I am exploding with geyser force and I need you to see, need you to know…to have this moment etched into your past so you can never forget. 

Mara, I adore you. You are amazing.