“I touch the suffering bodies like they were saints I should handle with gentle reverence. This is how I take [Your] hand. This is how I hold [You in my arms.]” &iempre.
–Louise Erdich’s Love Medicine, paraphrased.
I sometimes think I did this only not well enough. I believe I should have done it better. On the day you came to me in emotion, regardless of what I judged, perceived, assumed in my full-blown ego, I ought to have taken you at your word. No, I don’t believe you ought have come at me at that moment. Yes, I believe you, too, could have eased up on the clutch and moved over to the third lane in whatever fever had you worked up. Yes, I believe myself more responsible but we spent so much time on your hurt and wounds, we never made you accountable – not that we could have. Maybe the end was nigh for us somewhere down the road. Here, now as the autumn leaves blow and the warm Sun bakes the scents into my receptive nostrils, my Heart is ticking, calculating backwards to where the Sun was six months ago, where it will be as we start to stumble upon anniversaries.
Will you remember me on the first, the one you defined based on our re-lit fire of friendship? On the day a year after our first kiss? Our walk around the fort? The moment you let me in? I will send you flowers with the word “Siempre.” Will you care? Or, will you be rising to a Sun in the shadow of another laying by your side.
Why do I, still?
Someday soon, &iempre will come to mean more than love letters to You, unread. It will come to be what We, You & Me, intended from the start. A ‘ & ‘ that is the bridge between Two into One: Mind, Heart and Soul. Maybe Tonto, Yo. Maybe romantic, tanto.
Pero a mi no me importa ya no mas. Solo El Amor. Come &iempre lo era, lo sera otra vez.