Darcy,
beautiful, lovely Darcy.
Watching the Abbey Road sessions and Hard-Fi popped on...he bought me their first album. So..several alcoholic beverages into the night you understand...I send a text to the number burnt in my brain...burnt searingly into my memory.
Blah blah Hard-Fi Blah Blah....
I've not texted him in ages...like months...like almost a year (I hope!)
I've been so so good as I honestly believed he had a different number so I've just been good and not texted like a lunatic as I just don't want to cause him any strife.
But I sent it and felt myself cringe with my stupidity.
Then...
a reply.
Short.
Sweet.
Kisses.
Enough....
I have smiled and I have cried and I feel deep sadness now and a wrenching that is pulling at my heart so much. It frustrates me that I cannot control this inner turmoil that has now surfaced.
Once again the painful patchwork of healing must start over.
This is when I yearn for warm arms, closeness, tenderness and words of love.
The silence is deafening and tumultuous.
Strange times and I strive to cease to cling to him.
I wish I could slice out the deepness of feeling within me.
For he is deeply within yet I cherish that he is.