"You will be missed because your seat will be empty..." ~ Jane Eyre
* I missed the blue light of my cell phone which illuminated my entire bedroom when you called in the early hours of the morning. I missed the words of the man at that time, uninhibited by neurosis and spiced with a warmth that I didn't want to believe could become plain and cold. The irony is you are skilled in languages, yet all that you said which was rich and vibrant to me turned into a vast emptiness of nothing. I had to change my ringtone after that; the tone didn't ring my ears so much as it gave a rhythm to my heart hope in my veins. Now, I give rhythm to my own heart and my own hope to my veins. Thank you for teaching me rhythm.
* I missed playing chess with you online. I missed the barbs back and forth as I tried fruitlessly to get you into checkmate. You never missed a beat and always beat me. I missed good maneuvers and miss you winning. I was the most upset when you took my Queen. There is no irony here; this man is an expert at games. I don't miss your rules. I will always make my own. And, I have now read many books on how to play chess. Still, I don't miss the opportunity to beat you. I already have. Thank you for teaching me how to beat a person at his or her own game.
* I missed the nights we put on Jeff Buckley's Live at Sin-e. I missed your commentary on each of his pieces. I missed being the Tiny Dancer to your Music Man as I swayed in the audience the nights you were strumming your bass. I missed the glamorous side to dating you, but then realized you had no glamorous side. You teased me for reading Hemingway, perhaps because you never read him yourself? Some believed him to be a misogynist, but I don't believe he is. I believe you are, and that is why I don't miss the music. Thank you for leading me to better notes.
* I missed the Cheerios in the morning. Perched on a stool and laughing as you were trying to figure out how the hell to work the new coffee maker. I missed those cups of coffee, too. As WASPY as you were, you appreciated my Armenian side, and I missed cooking Armenian dishes that you so enjoyed. Those beautiful blue eyes were obvious symbolism; you were so blue. I don't miss the blueness of your being. Thank you for reminding me that the color blue is not as pretty as the color red.
* I missed the blue light of my cell phone which illuminated my entire bedroom when you called in the early hours of the morning. I missed the words of the man at that time, uninhibited by neurosis and spiced with a warmth that I didn't want to believe could become plain and cold. The irony is you are skilled in languages, yet all that you said which was rich and vibrant to me turned into a vast emptiness of nothing. I had to change my ringtone after that; the tone didn't ring my ears so much as it gave a rhythm to my heart hope in my veins. Now, I give rhythm to my own heart and my own hope to my veins. Thank you for teaching me rhythm.
* I missed playing chess with you online. I missed the barbs back and forth as I tried fruitlessly to get you into checkmate. You never missed a beat and always beat me. I missed good maneuvers and miss you winning. I was the most upset when you took my Queen. There is no irony here; this man is an expert at games. I don't miss your rules. I will always make my own. And, I have now read many books on how to play chess. Still, I don't miss the opportunity to beat you. I already have. Thank you for teaching me how to beat a person at his or her own game.
* I missed the nights we put on Jeff Buckley's Live at Sin-e. I missed your commentary on each of his pieces. I missed being the Tiny Dancer to your Music Man as I swayed in the audience the nights you were strumming your bass. I missed the glamorous side to dating you, but then realized you had no glamorous side. You teased me for reading Hemingway, perhaps because you never read him yourself? Some believed him to be a misogynist, but I don't believe he is. I believe you are, and that is why I don't miss the music. Thank you for leading me to better notes.
* I missed the Cheerios in the morning. Perched on a stool and laughing as you were trying to figure out how the hell to work the new coffee maker. I missed those cups of coffee, too. As WASPY as you were, you appreciated my Armenian side, and I missed cooking Armenian dishes that you so enjoyed. Those beautiful blue eyes were obvious symbolism; you were so blue. I don't miss the blueness of your being. Thank you for reminding me that the color blue is not as pretty as the color red.
These seats aren't empty. They have been replaced with something bigger, greater, and more important: my self worth, my self-love, and my self-awareness.
posted by ThursdayNext | 3:11 PM
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