A silly story about love I guess.

I'm putting up my amature writings. This and the one below "The dream" I need a good title for this one, and I'd like feed back on if the ending works. --

Physically apart, yet seemingly tied together by the strong bands of love, whose bond crosses plains, mountains, seas; the bond that penetrates deep into foreign lands, through war, hate, misunderstandings, and basically all fears or doubt. It’s something that, like the wind, cannot be physically seen with the naked eye, but can be seen in its power. Causing trees to bend or brake, in the scattering of loose papers through car driven streets only to be stopped dead by a fence or perhaps the side of a building. Like wind, the feelings are true enough, especially to those who feel them, as real as the air we breathe, but unfortunately can be stopped by the other physical creations of man. The creation I’m referring to is not of man it is not a building, but a situation that stops the love from reaching its final, longing destination.

I am at war with myself, and an uncontrolled war as it were. The bodies immune system, in doing what it knows how to do, attempting to remove the invaded, foreign matter from the body, but in the only way the immune system knows to remove foreign matter, by destroy it. And unfortunately in destroying this foreign substance it’s also damaging the needful things. The body grows fatigued, confused, and further damaged in its fight to heal, live, survive. Thankfully we live in a time where the knowledge rained down from heaven has reached a point where we are able to temper the damage, but this action also causes fatigue.

Everything is backwards, everything is afraid; everything learns to turn its trust to the one who created it, God. God tells everything that it’s all going to work out, and everything needs to learn patience. It’s still a little scary to me, the unknown of the future, and the possible pains of tomorrow. I think upon the One who took upon Himself the pains of all, and what He went through. I wonder what fears or doubt, if any, crossed His mind.

All the thinking of this situation doesn’t change the fact of the invisible bond that still tugs at my heart. There’s nothing to it, Love needs to reach his finale destination to be at rest… to end the longing.

The month of June has crept up to me, sooner then I expected, but not sooner then what’s correct. It will be 2 years this month that my current trial set upon me. I’ve decided to run, run away from the prison walls, the cold, dark cell of my existence, run to my heart, run where my love needs to be, run so that the longing can be over, ended, put to sleep, and I pray silently I find that sleep in the arms of the one I’ve been longing for.

First stop is at the store, I walk because I don’t want my warden to know I’ve escaped and I’m leaving. The warden can go back to her life of Matlock, Wednesday gambling, and visits to her sister to pass her time. I ponder taking her with me, she needs to escape the prison as much as I, but I don’t think she’d leave the walls of her prison willingly, forever. There are too many memories there, and she’s too set in her ways. Like a cat taken from its home I think instinctively she’d find her way back, and that action of course would only put me on the spot to explain all my thoughts and feelings.

How do you explain the wind to the wall?

I take with me a small cooler filled with the current medication, what good is the escape of one’s heart only to lose his brain to the immune system? At the store water is purchased, one 24 oz. bottle of water, and all the money taken off of the card from the states financial aid, a bus ride over to the bank, then down town to the greyhound station to purchase a one way ticket to freedom.

While waiting in the station for the bus to get gassed, warmed, and ready. I strike up a conversation with an old grey haired man wearing a brown, corduroy suite. He’s on his way back to his family in Burbank California. He tells me his daughter is probably worried sick over him. She’s been watching over him for almost four years now, but he’s not a baby, He can take care of himself, and this trip “to visit my Grandson in Garland (Utah) is proof positive of that. Proof positive indeed. Tell me I’m too old, and feeble to get up and travel anymore. Sure I have my problems with my body, but my mind knows what it wants, and damn it I’m not a baby, I am not a baby! I’m a grown man…a grown man…” I almost felt like hugging the guy as he put his head in his hands, and I think started to weep. I knew what he was going through, I’d been living that same existence now for way too long. It’s not correct, not at all, but here I was almost 50 years younger then he, and experiencing the same situation. I let the old man be alone, and went to fill up my water bottle in the drinking fountain, and relieve myself from the water that I had already drunk.

The bus was ready finally, and Charles, the elderly man, and I made our way to it.

One to start his new life, the other to return to the life he’d left.

We became better friends on the 9-hour bus ride we were together. I told him of my situation, and we shared our likes and dislikes with each other. We ended up attempting to nap at the same time, but I really didn’t sleep all-that well. I showed him my medicines, and he knew a few of them. “I’ve never taken that one, but I know about it, I had a friend once who…” Oh that was a long story that didn’t go anywhere, but I faked interest, and my attention on it to keep the old guy content.

As my stop approached I informed him I was getting off soon, he felt sad to see me go, and truthfully I did as well. He still had another hour or so on the bus to LA, then his daughter was picking him up to drive him home to Burbank. I wished him all the luck in the world, and we parted when the bus made its stop in Victorville to gas up, and to drop my end off.

The buildings were a little like home, but the air had a little more moisture to it. It reminded me, first of all, of Bakersville, CA. one of my known cities of California.

My watch read 7:00, but with the time change it would be 6:00 here. I changed my watch to reflect that. Now how to find her home? Locating the Victor Valley Transit station in the nearby yellow pages I walked to the address listed. Upon a discussion with the cute, little, blonde girl behind the counter, I found the house was not near a scheduled stop of their bus services, but she offered to call me a cab. I accepted her invitation, and the cab arrived within the hour.

Handing the driver her address, and excusing myself for a much-needed second nap attempt, I slept/dozed for the 35 min ride to her house. Paying the man, and thanking him, I left the cab and I had arrived.

The images I’d created in my mind from older pictures of the home were about correct. Knowing she would be along soon, with her children in tow, I discovered the missing nap, I’d sought after most of the day, among the children’s strewn toys, in the shade of a great willow out front.

I didn’t hear her car approach, and I hadn’t noticed the sun elongating the shadows of her house or to steal away the tree-shade from off my face, and to place the shade of the house on my feet. The first conscious understandable audible was her son’s “He’s here! It’s Spider-man!” followed by her “What the heck are you doing here? How did you even get here? How? … ”

“Just a second please, let me wake up.” was my first comment. He children were out, and running around excitedly. Her son continually chattering about spider-man (my nickname from the bite), her daughter moved instinctively to cling more to her mother’s leg at the realization of a ‘new stranger’ so close to her front door, I slowly got myself up, brushed the dust off my back side, and clothes, and walked over to look her in the eyes.

Tears filled her eyes, and started to fill mine a little. My heart was pounding; this girl from the web cam, more beautiful in person then I’d ever would have dared to dream.

“May I touch your face?” I said

And she giggled out a “yes”

I did so, and felt her skin for the first time. My hand came alive on that touch, as if I’d never known the feel of flesh for another. She raised her hand to mine, and took my hand. I pulled her from that into an embrace. I held her, held her tight, pressed my body against hers, felt the joy that is a true embrace. Her heart was beating just as fast as mine, I could feel it, I could feel her. I hugged harder, squeezed tighter. If I somehow could have squeezed us into one at that moment I would have done so, and I felt her squeezing just as hard back. Her children started to relax a little, daughter seeing her mom’s joyous facial reactions took courage, her son seeing the same stopped jumping about, and slowed down. We held for a long time by the look of the sun, and upon her son’s statement that he had to ‘get inside to pee’ we reluctantly eased the embrace. Wiping tears from her eyes, she fumbled for her keys, and we made our way to her front door, where she unlocked it, and her son burst in to relieve himself.

Her daughter close behind her, and I a little way myself, followed as she made her way into her home, and put the keys down on the counter.

“I needed a break from my longing to be with you. Maybe I should have called first.” I smiled.

She burst out a little laughter again, and we embraced again.

“Yes, maybe you should have called first, but this is a wonderful surprise. Oh,” she said wiping more tears from her eyes, after relinquishing the embrace. “I need to get me some dinner now after all this excitement.”

“Sorry I just didn’t want to be physically apart any more. I needed to see you, to overcome that gap that was separating us.”

“What about your Grandma, what about your living expenses here, what abou…” I put my finger on her mouth to stop her.

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Let’s get you that something to eat, and see if I can’t share in it I’m starving. How does pizza sound?”

“Let me ask the kids if they’d like some too.”…

THE END or THE BEGINNING
Depending on how you look at it.