From November 2, 2018
In Any Light (Prose)
The leaves outside my window are the most vivid golden yellow, and though the sky is grey and full of clouds, there’s this amber light coming in, and it makes me think of you.
I love you in the daytime when there’s light enough to see every line around your eyes, and every thought as occurs to you, and every expression, and every movement of your lips as you speak to me. I love you in this light, when you sit across from me, touching my arms, my calves, my thighs, when you sit here reaching for your coffee cup, lighting your cigarette, filling the room with such a powerful sense of your presence that I can feel it for days afterward.
I love you in your absence, too, when the light falls on the empty space you occupy when you’re here, like a spotlight on that space that waits, like I do, for your arrival.
I love you in the morning when I’m not quite ready to face the day. The way we wake together, and you reach for me, hold me against you like your life depends on it. The way I feel sometimes like my life depends on you holding me just that way.
I love you in the spare moments when I am finished one task and ready to move onto another – that I can just reach out with my words, and you’re there. That you give me your time like that. That you take mine when I offer it. That you let me be a part of your ordinary reality with tender, thoughtful tendrils that reach for me throughout the day. I feel you, always. The pluck, the gentle tension when longing strikes, and your body wants mine the way it does.
I wonder if you feel it when my body wants yours, but it doesn’t matter. I know that some part of you receives all of me, whether it registers or not.
I’m listening to music, and “A Case Of You” just came up in my rotation.
“I remember that time that you told me, you said
“Love is touching souls”
Surely you touched mine ’cause
Part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time”
Yeah. Like that, except you’re in all the lines, all the time.
You’re my favourite ink. The longing, sure, but also the certainty, the sense of being replete, the trust, the healing force you bear upon my childhood without even knowing you’re doing it, the way that reaches back through my very DNA and heals the wounds of my ancestors.
Twin flame. I don’t really believe in that stuff, you know. I think everything that happens is natural, organic, of the earth we inhabit, encoded in our bones.
But still. There’s something to it. Must be, because something is very different with me when I add you to the equation.
I believe myself to be whole without you. You aren’t a piece of the puzzle. We aren’t broken. We aren’t incomplete. But something happens when we touch souls, and though I’m ill-equipped to describe or define it, I know it makes me somehow more than I was before.
I’ve held this lantern up in the darkness for a long, long time, and sure, I held it up so I could see my own way, but I am grateful beyond measure that you caught sight of it in your own dark night, and found your way to me.
Thank you for arriving.
November 2, 2018
November 2, 2020. Yup. Still.