Learning to love

A new artist in the dreams : (

I haven’t dreamt of you in so long. The reoccurring dreams from my unconscious used to pour out in my unanticipated sleep like rain from my soul that was so attached to not holding on to you. But the day came where I thought I was ready; to let the fantasy of you any time in the near future, die. I remember that night at the lake side table where we talked about how much the other meant, that I first told you I could let you go if I knew you were truly happy. I have always felt that seeing you with someone that you could finally sit still with and enjoy, would fill my heart more that even having you by my side.

We have been through so many phases of pushing and pulling. Through it all I have found gratitude in knowing that we are still spectators of each other’s lives. At the very least,. I have been cradled in times of missing you, by the amazing memories of our encounters and our artistic connection that seemed so unlike anyone we had ever met before. You live for the conquest and I entertain listening with tiny bits of selfish comfort that you will continue to lose interest in those that pass through your life like a fleeting train car, before you move on and someday return to my station.

My dreams of you last night, are rooted in a fear that I had never considered when I promised I could sit through your wedding, if you found “the one”. It never crossed my mind that you truly could find that person in Louisiana, the open minded, good-girl gone bad, that you described me as. It never crossed my mind that only another artist could penetrate your heart the way our time together had done, even against your will. To hear you say that you had a “wonderful Valentines Day” planted a deep crack in the confidence I have had for so long. I realized that you are changing, maybe with the help of what we went through and what we lost. You have begun to allow yourself to open up to what you are now calling “the wonderful”, the only thing I ever prayed for you to get, with or without me. The intern you told me about is taking artistic pictures of you and you are spending the weekend playing the guitar for someone new; incredible artistic moments. Although my mind wants badly to thank God for this gift, I recall the dreams and am scared, that my prayers have finally come true, without regard for my hidden motives.

You and my experience with you have molded and shaped every part of me today and I am so grateful that you were such an instrument to me finding myself. I have seen the same things happen to you and with selfish gratitude; I always hoped silently that some day it would bring you home, to me. Today is all I have and today, I pray to be grateful that you may get the chance to have the moments I have had, in the arms and the hearts of another artist. I hope that you paint your story and that she loves the talent that flows from your protected soul. I hope that she can peek into what I been blessed to see and help you to see them too. I pray to realize that the art of living and loving is not contained in just you and just me.

Thank you for following your path and learning to love, or at least look towards it, as that is all I ever wanted, to want for you.


Creativity is the willingness to express emotion and the ability to explore it without perfection.