Me and These Ghosts…

Fear: Explained

November 24, 2014 Comments (3) Views: 2437 My Collection of Musings


So, if you’re a regular reader – you know that the content on the website is about as close to a direct-to-brain connection as I can get. I read a blog once about how women should never date men who write. Apparently we are too emotional and broody, and focus too hard on HOW to say what we are thinking and not just saying it. I personally think the woman that wrote it wouldn’t know a real man if he fell out of the sky and judo-chopped her with a fresh salmon, but that’s just my opinion…

In life, I tend to lack that thing that exists between your brain and your mouth that keeps you from saying the stupid stuff that you think and don’t say. That’s why I lean pretty heavily on this website to be that brain to mouth barrier, since there is the added action of typing, and let’s face it – sometimes you’ve had enough whiskey to not be able to type.

So those thoughts get buried somewhere deep, and the moment passes…

Sometimes those moments linger a little longer on the surface…

It’s always something simple that springs them back to life like a persistent springtime weed, and the next thing you know you are squinting over an iPhone at 1:00 in the morning pouring your heart out to an implied audience in an attempt to capture that moment in it’s blood red beauty.

See, as soon as I knew I was going to write this, I couldn’t talk myself out of it. I tried a couple of times to think my way out if it, and that was about as useful as a one-legged fat kid on a tandem bike. It seems that the same disconnect between brain and mouth doesn’t exist between brain and heart for me. Those two fight like pissed off cats in a burlap bag.

Originally, I’d decided that if you contacted me – I’d just send you a link to this. I would just bury it in my site, not promote it, and unless you stumbled upon it, it’d only get read by random passers-by, but I’d somehow feel better for having gotten it off my chest…

I guess I’m done burying things…

Standing in my doorway as you walked up from the street, I knew I was in trouble…

When you asked me how our situation could even be possible, I casually said “I don’t know – maybe the universe decided to just quit being an asshole for a change?”

When you were asleep with your head rested on my arm, I couldn’t wipe that stupid grin off of my face. I knew you were sleeping because you were snoring ever so delicately, and I was planning on giving you shit about it when you woke up. Something like:

“Your snoring kept me awake all night”

“I don’t snore!!”

“You snore like a warbeast”

But instead I just moved a lock of your hair back behind your ear, and whispered something in the dark. I kissed your forehead, and told you how beautiful you were and shut my eyes.

If I would have know that the next morning, when we said goodbye on the sidewalk, that it’d be the last time I’d see you – I wouldn’t have let my fingertips linger on your hip as you walked away. I would have wrapped you in my arms, and kissed you. I would have held your face in my hand, like you held my heart.

Life is funny in the way that challenges us, and changes us, and makes us good at the things we don’t want to be good at.

So, 600 or so words later, I guess we get to the point.

I know how to let you leave, but babygirl, how am I supposed to let you go?

3 Responses to Emotionalism

  1. Joel says:

    That’s how I am. I think of something to say, and it just comes out, then I’m like “shit”.

  2. suze says:

    There’s stuff I want to tell people, men especially, but I’m usually looking for the most diplomatic way to say it. Then most often than not, I just don’t say a word. Not fond of the taste of feet.

  3. […] when I wrote the original Emotionalism post, it was directed at one specific person, and if I had known it was to become a trend, I would […]

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