I dreamed of it again. I dreamed of that place where we were when you saw what I had seen before. Time and space were suddenly altered, just materials to be molded and shaped as we liked. I blinked and stood on the spot where I knew what you had known.

Then came the storm as it always does. There was so much lightning my heart didn’t need as many beats to keep the rhythm. You were unchanged. You didn’t even flinch as that rain drop splattered on your nose.

That canyon must have been the end of the world. I walked out as far as I could. I was convinced I would see the edge of the universe if I could just balance there long enough to lean out and look. I didn’t worry, not for a second. I knew your hands were there, sturdy and always ready. You’d catch me before I slipped if the rocks decided to abandon their usual resting places. You’d always catch me.

When the cliffs had finally had enough of my trespassing footfall, I reached behind my back for your sturdy hands. They weren’t there. Had I dreamed them, too?

As I slid and tumbled, I heard the echo of someone calling your name. It was loud, booming as if the entire planet was reflecting it back at me. It took the echo of the universe for me to recognize my own voice. Only my voice, alone with your name, new to me as if I had never spoken it outloud.

Just before I hit the ground, I caught the ledge of a bridge made of rock. It must have been there for thousands of years. It shattered in my hand as if its frailty was by design, vengeance for my foreseen trespass.

The shards of ancient rock were still in my hand when I finally hit the canyon floor. I clutched them against my breathless chest and strained to hear the lingering echo until the sky went dark.

My eyes are open wide and I’m gasping for air for what seems like several eternities before a breath finally comes. My ears are ringing with the echo from the canyon. Without instruction my eyes are darting around the room sorting out my surroundings, my mind scrambling to distinguish dream from reality. Did I dream your hands? Were they never really there? But I had never been so sure of something. They had to have been there. So why did I fall?

As my heart settles back to its normal pace, I feel a cramp in my hand. Still clenched in a fist. I relax my hand, half expecting to find the shards of rock. I find nothing but a sweaty palm, and I lay back down as a sadness settles in. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.

I suppose falling is inevitable for all who walk those cliffs so boldly. I assumed myself invulnerable to the forces at work in any of those places because when I dreamed of them, you were always there. Sturdy and always ready.

Almost always.

You didn’t finish your yogurt. It wasn’t important. There was only time for what was important. In the moment, we were important. I pretended I didn’t know why.

Do you remember when..

We always do that. And there’s always something to remember.

I think I’m only now seeing you.

That’s my fault. Before now I’ve shown you only what you needed to see to be comfortable. It seemed best.

I’ve misjudged you, I think.

Most do. I prefer it. Still, it startled me that you could be so much more when there was so much less of you.

I would say the night was more like peanut butter. I like peanut butter. But everybody knows that peanut butter is only ever in your hair by intention. It’s only ever there because it needs to be. Because you put it there to get the gum out. It’s for the best, mom always said..

Well, mom, boys don’t get gum stuck in their hair. Someone has to put it there.

But that’s okay, I can handle it.

It’s not a fair fight. I’ve seen you from the beginning. It took you a long time to say those things, but I’ve always seen them. I knew those things would eventually be said.

You love the beginning, the first step. The little sliver between freedom and risk, the tiniest of moments that makes you forget for half a second that you’ve ever felt heartache. I loved how much you loved it. So that’s what I’ve always given you. A dozen first steps, free of risk, free of pain. That was more important than whatever I couldn’t decide I wanted.

You are a bad person.

Now we come to it. And I suppose you’re right. See, I played that playlist because I knew you would like it. I didn’t play the other one because I knew you’d like it more. Because that’s who I am. Cocky and cautious in one step. Crunchy and smooth. I had hoped you’d see around it.

I’m not that silky José Gonzalez song, or the hundred other songs on that playlist. No I’m that sticky Billy Joel song. The one you’ve listened to a dozen times trying to understand why anyone in their right mind would care for a girl like that.

Maybe not everyone likes peanut butter.

~ Phaedrus

well she tied you to her kitchen chair
and she broke your throne and she cut your hair
and from your lips she drew the hallelujah

baby i’ve been here before
i’ve seen this room and i’ve walked this floor
ya know, i used to live alone before i knew ya

there was a time when you’d let me know
what’s really going on below
but now you never show that to me do ya

maybe there’s a god above
but all i’ve ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who out-drew ya
and it’s not a cry that you hear at night
it’s not somebody who’s seen the light
it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

When the daylight comes
Do you feel it?
Leave your bag of bones
Underneath your bed
Everything is as
It should be
I’m leaving now
As I should be

No way, no way
No we’re never gonna talk about it
No way, no way
No we’re never gonna speak again
No way, no way
No we’re never gonna talk about it
No way, no way

When the night descends
Are you sleeping?
All the things you’ve done
Come to haunt you
All that we can do
Is smile
It would be like this
For a while

No way, no way
No we’re never gonna talk about it
No way, no way
No we’re never gonna speak again
No way, no way
No we’re never gonna talk about it
No way, no way

I’m not sad, really
All this means, losing
Letting go
Don’t look out
No way, no way, no way

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments

And all of the ghouls come out to play
And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues drawn
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind
I can never leave the past behind

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off

I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart
‘Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back?
And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t
So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope
It’s a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
Cause looking for heaven found the devil in me

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off

So shake him off

Ninety-nine dreams I have had
Every one a red balloon
Now it’s all over and I’m standin’ pretty
In this dust that was a city

If I could find a souvenir
Just to prove the world was here
And here is a red balloon
I think of you and let it go

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

~ Rudyard Kipling

One, two, ready, go!
Grow some big feet
Holes in history
Is where you’ll find me
Is where you’ll find

All is Love
Is love
Is love
Is love

L-O-V-E
It’s a mystery
Where you’ll find me
Where you’ll find

All is Love
Is love
Is love
Is love