Walking into Fate

She just appeared. I'm not sure how she did but there she was. An angel had to have put her there just as I turned the corner. We were just kids. I remember wanting, right there, to leave the military, quit the team, anything really just to be with her. All it took were five minutes.

Now, I'm no natural romantic but I swear I could have recited any sonnet that night. She demanded engagement. Subtle and sensual temperament can overwhelm any confident kid walking the streets on a warm summer night ready to invade and conquer the world. Only it was not me rolling over anybody.

An unplanned exchange of glances was all it took. Something just locked us. Out of character I say, "Hi."

"Hi." I'll never forget the way she said it.

There was no need for complex intros. There was enough complexity within ourselves. I continued, "Where are you headed?"

The sound of her voice drove me crazy.

"I'm not sure. I'm not from around here. Any suggestions?" I look around. "Man, it's a big beautiful, cool place. I'm not sure."

She answered, "Are you trying to tell me a hip young guy like you can't point me in the right direction?"

"Sure. Follow me. There should be some live outdoor music show somewhere."

She smiled approvingly. An unstudied smile that simply pierced through me. What is going on? "I'm Alex by the way." "Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm Olivia." "Where are you from, Olivia? "Vancouver," she replied with a West coast easiness. We walked for 3 hours and stayed together until 5am. We watched the sunrise from an all night cafe.

I didn't need to kiss her. But I wanted to badly. Not to satisfy any selfish urges. To thank her for being with me. Sometimes things just happen.

Even if we don't ride into the sunset together or runaway like two tramps in a Springsteen song this girl has entered my soul forever. Nonetheless, I felt it in my bones that there's something going on here.

I Know You'll Never Be In My Arms Again

What madness telepathically speaking to you through this blog. Silly really.

But it's all I have.

However, unrealistic it may be.

There's so much I want to ask you. So much I want to learn. I want to know you again.

Every once in a while, I have a dream about you. In them, you come to life so much it stays with me for days. I just don't understand this incredible attachment I have to you. Am I incapable of letting go?

Really? Last I remember, we lost contact in 1989 soon after high school. I went on. Trips to Europe, university, partied, played sports and had numerous encounters with women both serious and not so serious. Got a job or two and became a businessman.

I went on.

Yet you persist in my mind from time to time. It may not be unique. Hell, I may be the rule for millions may experience what I feel!

The deep impact of your image is unforgettable. Maybe because you managed to enter a part of me never person ever could. Who knows?

Something's gotta give.

We sat and talked naked in a bed. In the dream. We did not make love. It was a relinquishing of our most profound thoughts for each other. It was exhilarating as it was a relieve. It was moving as it was a realization of it was not meant to be for some inexplicable reason.

I touched your breasts. Not in lust. In marvel. Of you.

We may have kissed. I'm not sure. If we did, probably, it was a true kiss whose parent was pure love.

What's crazy is you're not my type. Only this is set aside when I ponder you. I don't see physical attributes I just feel something for you on another level I can't quite articulate.

Wanna know the craziest thing of all? I asked a psychic about you. Yes, even presented her with a picture. She asserts we were just too young and that you do still think of me often.

I hope you do.

Above all. I want you to be happy.

I want you to know this.

*****

For Emilia.

Serendipitousless

I passed on going to my high school reunion. Reasons for this, I reckon, were in the multiples including not having attended my convocation in the first place. So if I couldn't be moved to show up for my diploma, I convinced myself, why would I want to see people I barely remember?

It didn't help my entire gang of friends I still hang with weren't going. Who was I going to get wasted with while whistling and hollering at women?

In a manner of speaking of course. Need not worry mother.

It was with much surprise how I happened upon perhaps the real source of my absence.

Laura.

Waiting to buy batteries and radicchio, while watching slow witted sloths move about the check out line, she came into my field of vision. My heart skipped, stopped and rebooted in about five seconds. My entire life, well the part that involved Laura, whistled by me just like that. Snap!

If there were any doubts I never really moved past her this was it. Staring down at the fucking Mars bar selling for .58 cents, I couldn't believe she could still sway me in ways I could never explain.

My objective was to play keep away, pay and walk on into the sunset. Well, it was only 2 in the afternoon but the metaphor of a sunset felt artistic. It was really a mundane afternoon. Perfect for people wallowing in banal existence.

Hey, I'm happy though.

I got these batteries, you see.

My plan fell through just as I walked out the door. Thinking I was free, I put my head up and there were her eyes; looking straight into mine.

The little hamster running the circuit board in my brain must have been comatose for I could not eke out a sound, let alone a succinct, and distinct word she could decode.

"Hello, Jack."

Thank God her hamster was working.

It took my full concentration to not hold up the bag of goods in my hands with a "I bought batteries with my allowance money" gaze.

"Hello, Laura?"

Yes. Try and fake not knowing her. Sure, that will work. What a man!

"How have you been?"

Don't say, "I have been buying batteries."

"Good!"

How do you tell someone you adored to the ends of the Andes the truth in such a sudden and soon to be short encounter? Saying, "good" is about as safe and blah as can be. It reveals, a certain lack of achievement, shall we say? It tries to deceive the person while at the same time screams, "good, except..."

Whatever. I need toilet paper.

"And you?"

"Good. It's been such a long time..."

This is where my mind wanders. "It's been such a long time since I've seen you. Not a minute goes by I don't think of you; of us. What happened?"

"I know. Too long." I reply with a smile.

It was time to stand tall. One of the principle reasons why I lost her was because of my lack of confidence. She filled me with so much self-doubt it corroded any judgement I had.

Or she could have just not liked me. I forget. Memories tend to lie.

"You weren't at the reunion. I was looking for you."

It was with those final words a bolt of courage instantly surged through my body waking the hamster up.

"Any reason why?" she asked.

"Oh, shucks. I don't know. Maybe because I spent three years in agonized pain yearning to be with you? Just guessing."

It was now her turn to be speechless. Now she knows what it's like to have a deadbeat sot of a hamster.

Nonetheless, it wasn't bon methode. "I'm sorry for springing this on you. All these pent up feelings...for all this time...I..."

"I-I didn't realize..."

"See, that's the problem with us. All these feelings but no realization of anything," I replied.

A car pulls up.

"My husband."

And just like that she was out of my life again.

For E.F.

Closure

There comes a time in life where, I reckon for some anyway, you can't but help think about death.

I'm certain people are obsessed with it and certainly many have contemplated it at a young age. If they didn't we wouldn't have teenage suicide.

I've never been one to confront mortality but as I enter my 40s, it's finding its way into the back of my mind.

It's probably why the news today of her dying shocks me so. A mutual friend from years back informed me. I hadn't her in over 25 years, yet she never strayed far from my memory. Her hold on me reached deep into my existence it turned out.

I was sad. Profoundly sad. I felt as though a piece of my youth died an unexpected death. It was like losing someone close to my heart despite not uttering a single word to her in so long a time. A generation has passed when one wants to be technical about it.

I had to see her.

The decision was made to do so that morning. It wasn't going to be easy as I didn't want to intrude on the family. My plan was simple. Go to the hospital and wait right until visiting hours over. Even then, family members were likely to linger or sleep somewhere in the ward. I know not of her husband and made up my mind I shall take a chance. No harm in going. If my naive plan didn't unfold as calculated, and believe me I knew the probabilities were against me, all I had to do was recede and disappear into the night. After all, I may as well have been a ghost.

On the drive over, my sorrow only grew. My sense of personal mortality heightened. I thought of our brief love for one another once long ago. Teenagers but we were. I wished I had had kept that key chain she bought me for my birthday. She probably forgot what day that is.

Entering the hospital it felt like going into a Cathedral. I felt a sense of calmness I never really felt in my nerve, wrecked life. I asked the front desk where I could find her. "Room 201" the nurse said.

Room 201 was where we met in junior high. I still remember the day well. God I really did love her that much!

I observed in quiet silence and watched her parents leave. Her husband left with them. I watched them go to into the elevator. This gave me a few moments to go in and see her.

For a moment, I questioned my decision. I was uncertain if this was a selfish move on my part. But something gently pushed me forward. Perhaps an angel.

Conscience of my small window of time, I approached the bed. Her eyes were closed. Sensing someone coming in she opened them.

Of course, you can imagine the shock. She didn't need to speak really. I saw it in her eyes.

"Top of the morning. I'm Alex."

Those were the exact words I said to her in Room 201.

She responded as she did that very same day. "Hello. I know."

"There's so much I want to say. Unfortunately, my mere presence will have to do."

"It's ok. I'm happy you came. You've been on my mind all these years."

My knees buckled under me.

I took her hand and caressed it.

"Not a day went by where I didn't think of you. I just wanted to see you."

"It's funny. I prayed for you to come."

"You were my girlfriend not so long ago."

"Reach over in that bag. In the side pocket..."

I wasn't sure what I was looking for, however, she let me continue as if she knew what I was going to find. There it was. My favorite handkerchief! I had given it to her one of those soft, lazy autumn days.  I was known around school for wearing 'chiefs as I called them.

It was engraved with the initials A.L.. As I stared at it, trying to contain my emotions, I noticed something else was embroidered on it.

She had added her own initials!

"I did only four years ago."

"I-I...This is..."

"I can't believe it too."

It was a revelation so great it created an inner chaos of magnificent disorder. I could only look at her. I took one last moment to remember the first time I saw her.

Then.

It was time to go.

I kissed her on the lips softly and whispered in her ear, "I love you."

The tears rushed down her cheek with the force of a mighty river. I reached for a tissue and wiped her tears.

"Please. Don't cry. It wasn't my intention."

"I have so much I want to tell you."

"Save your energy for your family. God bless you."

And with that, I reluctantly turned away.

"Alex?"

I stopped and looked back.

"Yes?"

"I love you too. I've been dying..."

She laughs.

"Dying to say that for a long time."

I gave a serene smile, turned and walked away.

It was the same angel giving me the strength to keep walking. Half way down the hall her husband walked past me.

I continued on.

Like a ghost.

For E.F.

No Closure

Just an imagine letter or conversation to a past loved. It's still unclear where I want it to go but it's a first draft, no editing. I plan to add and adjust to this ode of sorts moving forward.

***

What happened? Really. One minute we're mad in love with each other and the next thing I know 23 years have come and gone without you. Does the lack of closure bother you at all?

I've been reduced to intermittent abstract thoughts of you while wondering, perhaps even hoping, if you did the same.

Something tells me you did and still do.

Yet. Yet here we are. Married to other people with children. I don't doubt happiness is found. Fulfillment is another thing I reckon.

Why get into that? What's the point?

If it were meant to be, then somehow we would have found a way to fall into our respective arms; even with my bad shoulder. Fate, I presume, maintains its presence.

I don't expect anything to be discovered and been resolved to accept the fact there will be no closure to whatever the fuck it was we had.

All I know is my heart never ached like it did during the years I courted you. Never has so much personal energy been expunged into a girl for me. What makes it all the more absurd is it amounted to precious little. We exchanged, what, one kiss on the lips and four slow dances at each other's proms and two parties?

Those pitiful actions are completely disproportionate to how much I loved you.

Or was it love? I don't know.

Our relationship was one big fucking non-sequitur.

Remember that day in the alley at school?

Was it immaturity? Did I misread any signals? Was it already decided for you back then and I failed to compute or even accept it?

Me? How am I? I just went on to College and semi-conformed to social norms. I've been waging my own private war ever since. Life, she's a can of distortion.

Oh. I just found out, because it's a small town, you attended the same university. Imagine that. I saw, met and bumped into many people in four years (about 1400 days) of "education" but you weren't one of them.

Oddly, the impact you had on my soul suggests we spent every single day together.

Ghostly romance I would call it.

Please don't take my tone wrong. I'm just absolutely disoriented about it all as I cross the Rubicon into my 40s.

I've had three impassioned poems written for me by three different ladies. Plato was no fan of the "imitative tribe" as he called poets, but it proved my existence sufficiently. Imagine if I slept with any of them! Even more strange, I never physically met one of the three.

I was lucky to be in three meaningful relationships and still miss some of the girls that have passed through my arms. There was a cool, hipster chapter in my life. Of course, the amorous escapades culminated into my lovely, charismatic and brilliant wife who has put up with my antics. Nonetheless, I never got used to such a sedentary life. My daughter is rather prococious. I hope I can help her along her own path.

I spent the first 30 years of my life mocking and facing it with satirical indifference, it in turn giggled as it delivered a dash of devilish sinking knuckle balls my way.

I saved. I fucked. I partied. I played sports. I met rock stars. Got published. Started a business. Spent time and chatted with characters meant for Lou Reed and Tom Waits. Opportunities were missed and money lost in the market. Debts swelled. Money to be made once more.

You never strayed too far away. I accepted it wasn't to be. I think.

Just another night on the town as I stand here playing the saxophone on the corner of De Blois and Mallard streets wearing a Dodgers cap.

You know.

I saw you once. I know you saw me see you. I saw your face. That look. It suggested to me you haven't forgotten. Emotions, I want to believe, continue to stir.

Or maybe I'm mistaken and being a tad narcissistic. What with the poetry going to my head.

I can't tell! Time has dulled blurred my Bat-pragmatic senses. It's not like we gave each other a chance.

Either way, I couldn't bring myself to talk to you. All that "meet our spouses" crap. Not for me, man. Hey, just thought of something. I threw away the key chain you got me in junior high. I was an impulsive feller.

Truth is, if you have to know Emily, I still cling to that moment when I saw you at my surprise  sixteenth party.

An instant beginning and ending of a possible promise descending into a deep trench of what ifs.

I have no clue what's in the cards or if any of this has any rational explanation waiting.

I just know I don't know.

She Poses

She poses me a problem
Attached to another cemented by social customs
Oh my, to love, to be loved, or to think to be in love
She poses a crisis of the soul
Only to sense a mysterious energy to another!
How to navigate through such confusing waters but to move on as though it was not to ever be!
She presses me into acknowledging my own private anarchy in matters of the heart.

The Right To Bear An Arm

In the spirit of that old saying "it seemed a good idea at the time," Jerry looked down at the right side of his body where his arm once was a part of. Nodding his head he muttered to himself, "damn motherfuckers."

See, as the story was relayed to me Jerry, in an act of desperate depravity, gave away his right arm, literally, to go watch his favorite team play a live hockey game.

He scored a ticket off an Estonian scalper who happened to work for the 'Pig' mob in the market for body parts.

Spotting a dumb fucking idiot like Jerry, he made him an offer that Jerry wasn't likely to refuse. They went into the Estonian's van and proceeded to make the transaction. Jerry's right arm for a hockey ticket. "Deal of the century!" he giggled. Two people, a doctor and a female,  other than Jerry were in the van. The scalper stood outside looking out for, you know, cops.

Jerry noticed the doctor smoking and nervously inquired, "will second hand smoke kill me?" The doctor laughed mightily and slapped his thigh. "You! Funny!" as he took a massive puff. "It's medicinal."

All the while, his partner sat quietly looking at his watch. She soon broke his silence. "Rod. We're running behind." "Quit hounding me, Lolina." "What's taking so long? Just cut it already."

Rod was transfixed by Jerry's arm for some reason. "It's so soft. Yet, firm. I can't keep my hands off it." "We have a job to do!" Just as she said it, the Estonian scalper pounded the door. "You have arm? Yes?"

"Not yet, Vasily. Hang on." "Give me arm!" he shouted while sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

Jerry observed all that was going on and began to have doubts. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea. I mean, God gave us two arms for a reason, right?" "Yes, he did" replied the doctor. "For you to change hands each time you jack off." "I want out!" Jerry whimpered. "Now, now" Lolina interjected. "You came to us, remembered? Are you forgetting how badly you wanted to see your favorited team played? Imagine all those men...skating...and walking arounded naked at the ended of the game in the lockered roooooomed..."

Jerry said, "Fuck you're annoying how you talk."

"Lolina! Get a hold of yourself you whore!" Rod exclaimed.

"Jerry. A deal is a deal. You're not a squelcher, right?"

"No" he replied. "I do like hockey."

"Sure you do. I'm just gonna administer some "fun-feel-good" syrup in you, Rod will saw off your arm, and we can all move on with our lives."

"Some better than others" Rod said in a low, hush tones as they both snickered.

Soon, Jerry was sedated and only remembers sitting in the nosebleed section watching his team get pulverized by their opponents. "I don't like hockey so much anymore."

He waltzed out of the arena, looking every bit the chooch he is, dejected. He heard a kid crying, "I'd give my right arm" for a jersey.

He grabbed the kid and said while tearing as though he was cutting an onion, "don't do it, kid! It ain't worth it!"

"Let go of my kid, creep!" the father shouted.

"I will when you start being a father! See, see here? See this? I gave my right arm to the team! And what did I get for it?" The father and his son looked away in horror. One onlooker stood and laughed. He said, "Here's a hot-dog, guy."

Jerry took the hot-dog but it slipped through his left hand. He fell to his knees screaming, "Oh, I'm right handed! What have I become!"

He was taken home by the police that night and the rest was history. The team he so loved didn't even offer him a sock. Nothing.

Stirring a cup of tea in the morning, Jerry recognized the folly of his decision. He turned the TV on and so his beloved team on the news.

He raised his left arm and stared at it.