I come inside, go outside, come back inside to stare at this with hopelessness.
For three days I have been trying to write how much I love you, this post that won't work... it's stupid, glib verb conjugation and whimsical disregard for the present tense.
I can't help my way with it. The present is a senseless abstract if told without expounding on context why I got here to make the connections between what failed and why it suddenly works.
I may claim, rightly, to be a sunshiny hope thinker but I am equally and without contradiction a deep dark doubter. I am certain of grander forces but I reckon with them ineptly.
Maybe there is destructiveness and a certainty that I won't
Honestly, I don't have much regard for writers block. If I don't feel like writing I don't. Sometimes I write and don't much care for the results, but mostly if writing is a burden I just don't write. When the mood stops striking me I do not at all. Have not...sometimes for years.
But I want to write this because it is more then just whimsy, more then just an afternoon jog down a dusty trail or something that strikes me as amusingly disproportionate.
Now, I Can Not write about how much I Love You because it actually matters to me to say so, with convincing grandiloquence. It is so hard when you care and want to care.
When tongue tied things are best stated simply...
Friday my boyfriend turned 40. I love him for being 40 which I think is a very sexy age and one that I always thought I could get along with (if one were (forty))*.
*I always did have specific, if limited, notions of compatibility.
He was born on April 28, 1966.
Then 7 years, 8 months and 19 days pass that I know nothing about, and a few then that are pretty hazy. He was already jumping off the roof to see if he could fly by the time I was born.
The year (1984) he graduated from High School (on June 6th) I was crushing on this kid who was break dancing down the aisle of Miss Piersons 4th grade classroom. My technique at the time was to become as invisible as possible to the person I hoped to flirt with. Over the years I went through a gradual process in which things change, evolve into a different and more complex, better form.
20 years, 4 months and 1 day later a girl walks into a bar...
1 year, 5 months and 3 weeks later, 40 years have passed. That is the condensed timeline of our two lives. I am well loved and want overwhelmingly to love well.
I threw him a surprise party with the help of his brother, his parents, Katrina and his friends. To the last minute he did not know. Almost 70 people came to wish him Happy Birthday. He says it was the best birthday of his life. It was the catering and the black balloons and the unexpected fanciful nature and timing of the event but, no, it was really the longevity and the enthusiasm of friendship.
I don't feel comfortable posting pictures of people without their permission and there is no way I am going to ask for it... eek!
But Clark finally gave me permission to post his image here. So I did.
Happy 40th baby, I love you!