That Next Place

Sunlight is in my eyes. Shadow lines and bright strips through the blinded window. If I stare long enough, there's an extra amount of moisture that fills the curves like I'm going to cry, but it's just physiology. I'm actually smiling.

I wrote a letter to Eddy today on my lunch break. I had an instinct that I would probably get one in the mail when I got home and sure enough I did. I think the Navy is having the desired effect on him. In a way, it feels like watching a birth; knowing someone such a short time in their evolution. It forces one to look in the mirror. And I do.

Rey and I exchanged IM's yesterday for the first time in a while. It meant something to me. Enough to put it down to words now. A lot of such "meanings" are being felt lately. I think I'm searching for them. I'm tired of sitting on the sideline of my own life. Tired may not be the word really... or maybe tired, but not of sitting, of feeling paralyzed to move and just watch.

Jason is on his way here so that we can play tennis. I'm glad to play; to move. It will be cold even with me sweating. Blue six beats, blue skies turning in and I'm so glad that my blues are beginning to see greens and yellows.

Sun is down below the neighbor's roof now. The rooftop has that sun-setting aura about it. I quickly think a fleeting thought. I wonder if that desire I had as a little boy to sacrifice myself so that the world could live in peace is what slowly unravels me in space and time---causes me a fair amount of my own pain. Psycho babble says this is a way of not taking responsibility for my choices, but I do. I know the doors I have opened and closed. I know the beds I have made, slept in, jumped on and left.

So yea, I'm smiling because I think that good things are happening to people that I care about. Because I know that even though I'm not in their lives daily, the seeds planted long ago remain.