Sunday, August 3, 2014

I think about someone every single day...our relationship hangs by a thread - literally

I think about someone every single day...our relationship hangs by a thread (in my head), literally.




The things we do. 
I try really hard to be transparent.

trans·par·ent
tranˈspe(ə)rənt,-ˈspar-/
adjective
-(of a material or article) allowing light to pass through so that objects behind can be distinctly seen.
-easy to perceive or detect 
-having thoughts, feelings, or motives that are easily perceived.


I have worn these two bracelets daily for over a year now. One represents my sister..the other represents someone I love and respect dearly. I made matching bracelets for both of these people. Friendship bracelets..I know I'm a dork but I was revisiting my youth and it really had a symbolic meaning for me.

One hangs on by a thread and has for the past three months. One is as solid as the day I made it. 

Two days ago I was out and I was at a outdoor bar that I love chatting with a guy that I like. We just talk when we run into each other - never exchanging numbers or social media. He's from Philly so I think maybe it's just that we feel like old friends. I won't say that I'm not interested though; because I am. 

As I'm talking to him I look down and the bracelet is gone. I panic..without trying to look like I'm panicking - and look around me for it realizing that was foolish; I sat with it for a moment. 
I've been gauging my hearts attachment to that relationship by this bracelet btw...and I let go.

I let him go. 

Yesterday morning I woke up - and the bracelet was back on my wrist; still hanging on by its thread. 

..and I wonder what part of this story I'm making up.



1 comment:

  1. Take this kiss upon the brow!
    And, in parting from you now,
    Thus much let me avow-
    You are not wrong, who deem
    That my days have been a dream;
    Yet if hope has flown away
    In a night, or in a day,
    In a vision, or in none,
    Is it therefore the less gone?
    All that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream.

    I stand amid the roar
    Of a surf-tormented shore,
    And I hold within my hand
    Grains of the golden sand-
    How few! yet how they creep
    Through my fingers to the deep,
    While I weep- while I weep!
    O God! can I not grasp
    Them with a tighter clasp?
    O God! can I not save
    One from the pitiless wave?
    Is all that we see or seem
    But a dream within a dream?
    Edgar Allan Poe

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