Simply a thank you.

It has come to this. I see it. Recognize it. Taste it. Dream it. Anticipate it. And acknowledge it could never be, or it could. But a part of me has begun the wanting of it. Enough so my dreams woke me not once but twice within a 30 minute period to just check and see it if could be possibility.

I dreamed of her. Or perhaps it wasn’t her. Perhaps it was another, but just acknowledging she and the idea had been in my thoughts. I was at Disneyland, and there was a woman, and she was famous, and actress, and it was inside a cheesy romantic comedy, where the girl gets the girl, and me, or the white woman, in an excited way asked the black woman, to face the media and “tell them.” And the black woman was scared, surprised, but a part of her wanted to. She was beautiful I recall.

Then not even 30 minutes later, she walked by me in a dream. I don’t recall the dream except it was her. And then I woke up and went to breakfast. And she walked by me, sat at one table adjacent, then moved to another, then moved to mine. Claiming too many people when I called her out on musical tables.

I’m not sure why but I like her. There is this liking growing inside me. I’ve had it for a little while now. The past two times we’ve talked I’ve felt it. The time before last I blatantly flirted. It was fun. But. I dismissed it due to circumstance. I don’t think being with someone in this time in my life is thing I want anymore, so I left her out as option from the get go. Then, the last time we talked, she made me like her. She’s … God I love black girls. The way they … their mannerisms. Their turns of phrase. Their lips. Their skin. Their bodies. God. It really didn’t help she is my fucking type. And she has the qualities I’d seek in a partner. Vibrant. A bit crazy. Possessive. Sweet. Loyal. Monogamous. And gay. Very gay. Thank god.

Today she comes out with more to like. She used  date a Goth girl. She used to like that scene. She writes poetry. Oh, this made my heart fall out my chest. She spoke one to me, at the table, from memory, and sounded so poet jazz club chic. So colorfully colored. Like a part of a movie you’d watch about Ella Fitzgerald. Or, perhaps I put it in that context because she is so beautifully personified. I want that. Her. Covet. Mine. Yes, in my head words become brief and succinct. And I just feel. And I feel I want that. Her.

And no, not just sexually. But, in the context of wanting a beautiful painting. Or an artist’s collection of work. I want to say, this one I have claim on. And be proud to be so honored.

God I didn’t want to admit it before and make it bigger. When I cease the writing of this I will try and forget. I am set on allowing the universe to give me what I asked for in patience and open mindedness.

I might feel a bit of fear, but it is small at this early date. I don’t even acknowledge her girlfriend. Girlfriends can be gotten rid of. I also know I will not accept anything if she’s got one. So points are moot either way.

But she said she likes the way I talk. I felt the impression she liked my precise educated turns of phrase and way of speaking “like a white girl.” Yes, my ex and Koi had been much amused by that. That made me squeeze with happiness, for I recalled my ex in that moment, and the love of her flushed through me with the remembering, coloring the moment that much sweeter.

And she …

I loved her poetry. It grabbed something inside and yanked on it. Or more like reached into my chest and put a gentle grip on something there and just held on. I feel it even now. My whole chest aches like the tombstone lodged there is being disturbed..

I am glad. I need this thing preventing me from feeling gone. I feel like a shallow version of myself. The heartbreak has made me … Cold. Even if this thing with her becomes nothing, I honor this. And her. For bringing me to hope and realization and wonder.

This is a thank you to the universal entity from a place of pure gratitude. This is a thank you to her for being beautiful.  This is a thank you to myself, my higher self, for showing manifestation of improvement.

This is simply a thank you.


2 thoughts on “Simply a thank you.

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