Tags: getting_there

look into my eye

Getting there.

"We're late, we have to get there by 4 o'clock" I shout from the bathroom.  Rushed as usual, the anxiety is building inside of me and I feel resentful.  I walk out.  "Are you ready?"

"Yes, I've been waiting on you" he says softly.  Annoyed at the situation I rush past him and grab my coat and purse. 

"Come on then!" I say, urgency in my voice.  "Even if we leave now we'll still be getting there late!"  I stand at the door waiting for him.  We leave together, walk down the hall to the elevators.  Standing, waiting for the elevator car, I feel upset and irritated.  I look at him, and his soft brown eyes are looking back at me adoringly, and concerned.  He smiles, then meows like a cat and waits for my response.  I sigh, and the elevator arrives.
In the elevator, he tries again.  He bats his eyelashes at me and points with his finger to my right.  "What's that?" he says playfully.  I look, knowing the game by heart, and he places a kiss on my left cheek.  I smile, and take a deep breath. 

"God we're late" I think to myself.

In the car we sit quietly, I fidget with the stereo and put on a CD.  I cuss the drivers and think wonder if we'll be 15 minutes late, or a half hour. After parking we walk towards our destination.  Twice I have to prompt him to come along because he's stopped to pet a puppy or to smell a flower.

We arrive and aren't too late.  We join my friends at the sidewalk cafe and sit down.  He sits quietly, and looks off at the street.  I talk about whatever comes up, but inside I'm sad and angry at myself.  I wonder how I became so cold and distant.  How did I get to this point where I shut everyone out.  When did feelings become thoughts that are tightly controlled, then rejected because of time constraints?  I think back to my parents, and my grandparents, and can hear the same dialogues about "getting there on time"  in each of their voices respectively.  My heart sinks, knowing full well where I learned this, and feeling disappointed in myself for not being able to stop behaving like them.

I think about other worlds, where things are as they should be... where I can just be in the moment... and there is time to feel and express myself.  I dream of a time when the journey is more important than the destination.  I remember when I used to enjoy every little bit of life and experience, before obligations and work stole my soul.  I think of his smile and his "point & kiss" game, and I want to be like him.

Later that evening, when we are back home, I apologize to him, and cry because I know I'm wrong.  I cry because I don't know how to stop.  And I know that he understands, and I wonder if I can learn to slow down and appreciate more of life.  I wonder if I can forgive myself the way he does.  I wonder if I can be more like him. I think of the long journey ahead.  "Will I ever get there? "

I curl up next to him and give him a kiss on the cheek, then wipe the tears from my face.  He puts his arm around me and his eyes look at me brightly and innocently.  And for the moment I feel safe and happy, and am full of the love that I feel for him.  I think to myself "Maybe those other worlds I imagined aren't so far away".  And in my heart I know-  when I'm alone with him, I'm one step closer to getting there.

three words.

Getting there.

I'm starving because I cannot eat a
Whale in one full bite
While the loaded guns cry
Freedom in the streets at night.
You say, "We're getting there.
"Slowly, but surely. Slowly, my darling."

We're getting there? Where are we going?
Wrapped in cloth, in Dorothy's wicker basket
I'm peaking out of the flap in the top
While the top money bracket
Sleep peacefully. I'm trying to get there.
"Slowly, but surely. We're getting there, my darling."

I bide my time, knowing full well that
When we get there, I will still not be satisfied.
Our hearts, as wild as the winter winds, are insatiable.
We will wonder why we weren't the ones who cried
Freedom in the streets at night
While we were trying to get to the three-colored dream
So, I will wander the streets at night
Knowing that I am there.
Catcher in the Rye

Getting there

Up and up and up we went
to the hilltop side,
over shrubs, grass and twigs
up toward the sky.

'Be careful,' we were warned,
'It's a tough uphill climb';
Disbelieving cliches, we climbed anyway
not paying any mind.

We panted, we struggled,
we scraped our elbows and knees,
Many stains from grass and dried blood later,
we could hardly breathe.

While collapsed on that hillside floor,
we grasped ourselves for dear life;
when suddenly we saw what before
was not within our sight,

I had you and you had me,
together as if we were one,
we had been working as two separate beings
blinded and spiteful and young.

So while we arose from the ground
and gathered our new found air,
we strode together, hand in hand,
and saw we were getting there.

Not bad for something done under 20 minutes. I surprise myself at times.
  • Current Music
    Bright Eyes--no lies, just love
  • Tags

getting there.

your green eyes open
and study my own
with intense care
as your thumb
caresses that sensitive skin
between the thumb and the pointer finger
and my palm
and my wrist, dios mio, my wrist
and i can't think clearly.
as the beautiful green gems get closer
and your mouth reaches mine
(the pressure the electricity the emotion the passion)

i can't help but smile
and our teeth clink
and you smile
and we're smiling and together
and all i can think is,
'we're getting there. we're finally getting there.'

(no subject)

Getting there would take a while. I'd already screwed up the "us" that was left so much that the moment may not even come. "I miss you," I wanted to say. "I need you," I'd whisper to myself as you'd turn your head. Laughing was inappropriate, but I couldn't hep but mimick the stupidity that was my mistake. Breaks are for losers; those who lose. And I wanted to win your heart back so bad I could taste it...