Morning

"Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth "you owe me".  Look what happens with a love like that.  It lights the whole sky."
-Hafiz

This page looks much better in person than this picture implies...

I don't dream.

I mean, I suppose I do, but I never remember them.

That feels like something I've said here before, but I'm too lazy to check or to say it another way.

Sometimes, though, in the morning, I wake up with small, momentary feelings.

Or a little snippet of an image burned into my brain, 

like the turning of someone's head, 

or one, tiny meaningful glance in my direction.

I try to hold onto them, but they rarely linger.

This year, Leonard has been gone for ten years.

I had the thought of writing a book.

Some small way to give us a happy ending.

And I was feverish with writing it for a while.

And then I stopped.

I had told myself that if it made me sad or obsessive again, I would stop.

But it didn't.

And I still stopped.

Call it writer's block, maybe.

But that's not the right term.

The truth is, I realized that I could write our story in whatever way I wanted to write it.

It was my choice and mine alone.

And what gave me pause, I think, was that I didn't want to write my story.

I wanted our story.

I want to know what really would have happened.

And that's silly, I know.

But I don't think it's crazy, necessarily.

It's honest and it's sad and it's unrealistic, but it's not crazy.

I did what I could.

I set it down.

I think one day I will pick it up again.

I think what I've written so far is pretty decent for a first draft...

She said as impartially as she could...

And I think the idea of it is good...I think it's a story I would want to read.

But I also need to let it rest and step back.

I need to find out if I can write what needs to be written, instead of just what I want to write.

Because what I want to write is a happy ending...

That's the whole reason I started writing it in the first place.

But I wonder now if there would have been a happy ending.

Or if there would have been one, but not in the way I've imagined it.

There's a quote from 'Hook":

"You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming?  That's where I'll always love you.  That's where I'll be waiting."

And it makes me wonder sometimes if maybe this life isn't suited to our happy ending, even in writing.  It makes me wonder if there's only space for it in in-between places.

Only space in the swell of my chest before I exhale.

In between the tick of the clock and the motion of the hand.

In the doorway walking between rooms.

In the haze between awake and asleep.

But I'm in one of those spaces now, 

the space between knowing and not knowing...a questioning space.

And I'm not sure what to do just yet.