A Little Memory To Pick Up The Pieces

(Originally written March 20, 2009 in the Journal)

To her:

A date? Was it? We had fun - there was definitely flirting. At the movies your arms were crossed most of the time, guarding your had from mine. But when you opened we got close. I told you my flirting techniques which is actually my best one. See the charm in this approach is you know what I'm doing and why, but it's safe. You can explore your feelings: search if there is anything there. Slowly, I'll grow on you; slowly, but steadily I'll win your heart. When it comes you'll neither know how it happened nor why it took so long to realize that these feelings you have for me are so encompassing. How could I have missed that? Ask yourself however many times you like, you'll never answer it.

To me:

A date? Overconfidence. Bafoonery. Your lies fool no one but yourself. There is no attraction, you are merely a safety net. See the time is coming, she will cry on your should, tell you how lonely she is, how what's his name has broken her heart- you know, that guy you warned her about for this very reason. But alas, you are no saint - you had ulterior motives. You wanted her for yourself.

Was it a date? At times it felt so, but others not so much. What is she thinking right now? Actually that doesn't matter because it's not about you. Do you think you've made the impression on her that lasts while you're not there? Nothing you've don would cause a lingering of you in her mind. My friend you are a mess. Set your sights lower.

I say to my soul, "be still my soul - be quiet my mind. Allow me to think!"

It answers back, "think not, simply be"

I am so many people in here. The divorce shattered me to pieces and now each fragment thinks for itself. Thousands of voices in my head vie for my undivided attention. How can I give it when I am so divided?

When she speaks to me the fragments speak not. They listen. When she touches my hand or arm or fixes my collar (which I leave messed up occasionally for her to fix - a confession) the pieces that constitute me form together. (A cliché - she completes me!)

No, that's not what I'm saying... How to put into words a felling I can't quite comprehend. The pieces offer their opinions: "love, excitement, lust, enticement, desire, ecstasy, enflaming, passion, teasing, agape, amore, mi amo! the sex! No, she's far too innocent!"

So I answer them back, "yes!"

They break into confusion, just noise.

Tell me about it. I am my parts. My parts are me. The one in the back you sit quietly. How can you be still at a time like this? All of us here are wrecked with a lack of understanding yet you sit stoic - unmoved, untouched.

I think this must be my reason, my logic. Hence, it is a small part of me. I call out to him, "logic, what say you?"

I am neither logic nor reason. I am simply a memory of a past era. I do not clamor about for I am neither confused nor frightened nor in need of panic", it retorts.

The room (that is, my mind) fell silent. All the fragments surrounded this tiny memory - pale, nearly see through but that somehow seemed to glow. Actually aside from fragments of me similar to this guy there were no other lights in the room. Everything had gone back when we spun into this chaotic state of mass confusion.

"You have a crush" the memory continued. "She excites you. Your heart races and your stomach flutters when she's near. It's that simple. Don't be so deep. This isn't philosophy".

Screams came from one side of the room while sighs of ease came from the other. The room became brighter in this instant as this simple memory seemed to collect a lot of pieces of me and fused them to his self. The pieces in the back of the room did not join this simple memory though. They were in fact fighting this unification. They were arguing with the simple memory and getting more frantic as it grew in size. They seemed more complex and I recognized their voices easier now. Countless warnings and alternative theories spewed from their lips. One of them suggested that they fuse together as a counter measure but they couldn't agree on anything except disagreeing with now large yet simple feeling.

I realized these voices were what kept me from sleeping at night. These were my doubts, my fears, my sense of inferiority, my pain, my shame, my skewed and slanted sense of logic. Their cries echoed in the room keeping me off balance. The glowing feeling then walked over to me. It smiled and whispered in my ear. "They will never be quiet, so go and live and enjoy.

The phone rings. Panic - it's her. The glowing feeling smiles while the scattered portion of me speak all at once. But me, as a near-whole for the first time in ages is calm, happy, free and really just myself again.

"Hello"

"Hi Fin, how are you?"

"I'm good and you?"

"Good. Hey I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner tonight. They just opened a new Greek place around the corner and I have nobody to go with".

"Sure, I'd love to. When should I pick you up?"

"Seven will be good."

"Great see you at seven".

"Alright, it's a date"

(It's a date!)

I could feel the glowing feeling smiling. The echoes of doubt still clamored in my mind begging to be heard, but I ignored them. I smiled with feeling.