Cadence (chapter 2, bits & pieces).

“I know enough of love to know by now that, in the end, it’s not just a matter of loving another; ultimately, we are looking for a companion that shows us how to fall in love with ourselves. We are longing to see our reflection in another soul.”

~ Elizabeth Levine, Elephant Journal

He shut the trunk to my car, gathering the last bits that belonged to him.

“I love you, Liz,” he said looking me straight in my eyes; the love in which that had burnt out long ago.

I knew then that there was a monumental shift. That wasn’t my name. Not to him. Not once. I was Bits. He was Pieces. Lizzy, Elizabeth, Eliza. Wart on my ass. Anything but Liz.

That right then and there … that moment … seemed to have ripped a hole right through the fabric of the Universe. Time stopped and the vision froze, suspended in thin air, haunting me like a ghost who’d visit me at the threshold of every relationship thereafter for years to come.

Those were his last words to me in person after a decade of cyclical love and loss, make ups and break ups, pen to paper and notes to staff, heartbreak and healing, music and magic, tempers and rage, drug addiction and alcoholism, vice and virtue, laughter and tears, writing and composing, the Beatles and Techno, Whitman and Blake, philosophy and psychology, the Bible and debauchery, loyalty and affairs, deja vu and lucid dreams, traveling and couch surfing, sickness and health, thick and thin, in and out, upside down and inside out, building up and breaking down, the sun and the moon …. life and death, and everything in the space between.

He broke it off over the phone three days later. The only reason being, “I don’t know who you are from one day to the next. One day you’re up, one day you’re down. I’ll visit you in a mental institution, years from now, when you’re 300lbs. Then maybe you’ll understand I will always love you.”

The radio in the car shifted static and Dave Matthews lit up the stage, sifting through my disbelief, demanding my grief to stand front and center as I turned the page.

Maybe different but remember
Winters warm where you and i
Kissing whiskey by the fire 
With the snow outside
And when the summer comes
In the river
Swims at midnight
Shiver cold
Touch the bottom
You and I
With muddy toes
Stay or leave
I want you not to go
But you should
It was good as good goes
Stay or leave
I want you not to go
But you did
Wake up naked drinking coffee
Making plans to change the world
While the world is changing us
It was good good love
You used to laugh under the covers
Maybe not so often now
But the way I used to laugh with you
Was loud and hard
Stay or leave
I want you not to go
But you should
It was good as good goes
Stay or leave
I want you not to go
But you didSo what to do
With the rest of the day’s afternoon hey
Isn’t it strange how we change
Everything we did
Did I do all that i should
That I coulda done
Remember we used to dance
And everyone wanted to be
You and me
I want to be too
What day is this
Besides the day you left me
What day is this
Besides the day you went
So what to do
With the rest of the day’s afternoon hey
Well isn’t it strange how we change
Everything we did
Did I do all that I could
Remember we used to dance
And everyone wanted to be you and me
I want to be too
What day is this
Besides the day you went babe
What day is this.
Stay or Leave
Dave Matthews

As with most relationships, there was an end. But, as with all endings, there’s either closure or there’s not. Funny, how time reveals life coming at you in full circle, and here I am at the beginning, all over again. There was a beginning worth noting, because it was the spark that lit the flame that started the fire that turned me to ash, only to rise again in the midst of chaos, like a myth; like a Phoenix facing her own shadowy flames. Except this Phoenix rose to a soundtrack.

If the Universe were to ever make a mixed tape, this would be it. Everyone deserves a soundtrack mind because everyone deserves to have a little taste of what’s to come.

And so it goes …

“Let me show you something,” she said as she opened her pouch. Pointing to a specific page, she handed it to him as they walked along the lake shore with a sacred gait. Excited to finally share something so raw, she boldly explained, “This is how I knew.”

His eyes brightened as he took them off the eclipses within her own. He read the words unfolding in a dream journal, in silence. His face blushed as he read the words unraveling in the mind of whom he now recognized as his very first soulmate. Bit by bit and piece by piece, the walls came crumbling down.

Dreams within the still of night
On wings of hope take flight inside of me
There upon some distant shore
We want for nothing more than what will be
And you and I, here we are
I wonder as we’ve come this far
If I could only read your mind
Tell me the answer I would find
Do you dream of me?
And when you’re smiling in your sleep
Beyond the promises we keep
Do you dream of me?
Love has found a magic space
A deep and hidden place where time stands still
Now I hold you in my arms
You know you hold my heart and always will
And you and I, here we are
And it’s a wonder that we’ve come this far.
And after all that we’ve been through
You’ve leaned on me, I’ve leaned on you
Do you dream of me?
And when you’re smiling in your sleep
Beyond the promises we keep
Do you dream of me?
If I could only read your mind
Tell me the answer I would find
Do you dream of me?
And when you’re smiling in your sleep
Beyond the promises we keep
Do you dream of me?
And after all that we’ve been through
You’ve leaned on me, I’ve leaned on you.
Do you dream of me?
Do You Dream of Me
By, Michael W Smith

There’s a hill beyond the valley where the blue heron silently graces the sky in solitude, the swan calls to her lover in lakes of darkness under the pale moonlight and the blackbird sings in the dead of night, casting forth shadows of secrecy held within the story behind the scenes, unfolding in every lyric ever written and shared between us.

But we didn’t know it then. Afterall, we were just kids, running wild and free, intoxicated with the scent of a new kind of love. A kind of love waiting to shake us and break us. Then eventually … make us.

We ran down that hill, head first over heels. Tripping on love as we leaped like lunatics who had little sense in moderation when it came to sippin’ the sauce. We raced blindfolded toward the lake’s shore, falling at last into a tangled web of arms and legs within the fields of gold; laughter echoing off the hills and hearts skipping like rocks clear across the lake, coming to a rest where we were finally understood under painted skies.

He talked in riddles and rhymes as he tickled the ivories on his grand piano, shifting his heart back and forth like a boomerang aiming for the kill. I cut the deepest recesses of my mind out of paper and fashioned them into characters who spoke lyrically and whimsically behind a stage; anything to hide the truth within my voice. He didn’t make sense. I didn’t make sense. Together, we made sense.

I was the quiet one with a bonfire heart, walking on the edge of a nightmare and a rainbow, feeling my way through oblivion that I could never quite articulate. Resting on a fence between reality and a dream. Not yet a bonified writer or artist, I fed off his music to soothe the chaos just beginning to brew within. I was just a kid, trying to make it up.

Until he came along to shake me up and wake me up, “There was a time when you let me know what’s really going on below but now you never show that to me, do you?”

He was the loud, boisterous soul and “Everyone’s Favorite Soulmate,” as the story goes. A musician. A writer. A poet. A lover. A genius. A philosopher. A comedian. A drug addict. An alcoholic. An arrogant fuck. A trapeze swinger who thought he knew no bounds in love and war and moved from one to the next with ease.

Until the day came that he begged me, please …

 

To be cont…

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