Unfinished Birthday Wishes
There is an unfinished puzzle on the kitchen table that we bought together. "Don't let her see this table. It's exactly what she wants." Now that table and everything in this mortuary reminds me of her. I used to always think that I knew exactly what she wanted. I could take any one thing in the world and hold it up to her and I knew right away whether or not it was what she wanted.
It's her birthday. It's her birthday and she won't see me. She won't call me and I keep calling her like some school boy on a crush. You can only chase someone who doesn't want to be caught for so long, and even if you catch them, they'll just run again.
A thousand scenarios run through your mind on nights like this. On important nights like a birthday a thousand awful things crash down upon you. Her kissing someone else's lips or being touched by someone else's hands are thoughts dancing in your head like a vapor tailed man with a pitch fork. You think of a little box with a ribbon that she opens and smiles so big as she reaches over and hugs someone. You think of a toast to the beautiful woman who used to do puzzles on the kitchen table that you knew she wanted.
That table just sits there now. It sits there with an unfinished puzzle that we bought. I haven't sat down to add one piece since the day she left. She actually left long before she ever left. It was a puzzle that she knew I would like. It's a Norman Rockwell painting. Its a painting of the life I just wanted to paint her into.
It's her birthday and she won't talk to me. It's her birthday and I'm the last thing on her mind and she hasn't left my mind since the last time I saw her. I keep waiting to hear that door open to this old house. The first door opens and shuts after you have entered the second door. It's a second by second sound of someone coming home. And then hopefully you'll hear the key jingle, and the lock, and maybe the sound of little paws scurrying at the door. She'll have the little black puppy in her hands and she'll need to let him down and he'll run to me.
I knew she would want that dog. The little dog that I named and the one that I miss.
I wait to pick that dog up and have him attack my face with his licking. And in that fantasy I'm finishing the puzzle and there's a little box on the table with a bow on it. She sees it and opens it and cups my face in those motherly hands and kisses my forehead and tells me she loves me.
I started to realize I was chasing her ghost about a month ago. There were now all of a sudden hidden agendas and no more inquiries to my life. She stopped caring about anything having to do with my life. That was the first sign and what happened was I started caring too much. I started to dance with the ghosts I was chasing and in actuality I wasn't dancing. It was more like I was robbing a store with them. I was killing my soul by dancing with the ghost.
It's her birthday and I hope she is happy. Chasing something that doesn't want to be caught only makes you look like a fool. I've been chasing ghosts half of my life. I've been chasing my own immortality through the motherly hands. I've been chasing something that I can't catch. It's her birthday and she's so beautiful in my head right now while I'm typing this. I know she's not alone because that's not her style. I know this because I always knew what she wanted. I'll always know what she wants and I can only hope I'm here when that key jingles, to give it to her.
From you one look
Just one look and everything is shattered
From you word
Towers burn
And fall
Fires curl, shadows swirl
A hollow sound
That no one else can hear
But me in silent streams
Forever more
We dream
