. rocket science .

... with her, love was rocket science after all ...

... the only moments in which our eyes met, locked, and looked steadily was when we fucked; that's Asperger's with both of us ...

... "drive out in the desert and meet me, i'm waiting, i'm wet” ...

... photos of her gate in that small place on the hillside, her garden, a squirrel, the surf where she always belonged ...

... her in the clubs, library, avoiding passing people, staring at the sidewalks, cars, windows, wishing she were back in Paris again ...

... whispering in French to each other, she would laugh and i would tickle, my French was so awful ...

... unlike any other she kept me abreast of her days, fully informed, i felt safe in her arms ...

... still so many stubs of her and i, small notes kept safe from travel, tucked here and there so that now i find her over and over ...

a note in a margin

small tattered fabric

pressed flower she'd planted

paper torn from a napkin

jotted address

ruled paper message

"i love you"

... wondering still, with the release from all the demands and pressures; is she finally free? is she loving randomly? is she bi again? ...

... it's all that she'd wanted, that sense of freedom and action, it matched her distraction ...

... the moment when our differences became apparent was when we both were betrayed by others; she got longed for freedom, i destruction ...

- whatever depression i suffer from i know it's situational and not chronic; it all depends upon how i'm being mistreated -

I've left words for you everywhere that I know you might find them. Pages of the Internet, emails, dA comments and notes. I suppose there might be others we know in common who hear from you still; which only makes it worse at times. Your cell is gone but we'd spoken about that before you left. Not a day passes that I do not miss you, though many passed between our speaking together with that next to last distance becoming between us.

Friends then lovers then anger then friends and lovers we transitioned in agreement. Now though, I long to find you if only to know ... to know how this past year and more has passed; if you are still in France, or back in the Bay area, with that old love of yours or some other. Just to hear you tell me of your days.

Just a hello i'm alive and okay.

Mandy

... we did the impossible, defeating the gravity of all, standing it on ends, spun webs, danced with wind, blew glass sands; we were the ones ...

.note # 312.

... where are you where are you where are you where are you where are you where are you ...

© Amanda 2015
Image: "Beyond the wound" by © 2014