Old Jack has a lover that he has never managed to let go of. They have broken up on more than one occasion but it has never completely taken. Every time he thought it was done and that there could be no reconciliation they somehow found their way back to each other.
Every time he found himself staring at her he would get lost in her eyes and that old familiar scent would waft its way into his nostrils. It was intoxicating, invigorating and infuriating. He wanted to let go. He wanted his freedom. He wanted to run the other way and explore new opportunities.
She never did tell him whether she felt the same way or not. She was silent. It was impossible to tell if she was unmoved by his words or if she just didn't speak because nothing needed to be said. He suspected the latter. It made far more sense and in truth it didn't scare him the way the other one did.
Because the thing was, she didn't speak. She didn't share her feelings and she never had. So the idea that this would suddenly change was more than a little disturbing. It would have changed the entire dynamic of their relationship and what was the point of that.
I suppose that it why I showed up on her doorstep again. Another Friday night, but I didn't bother with flowers or candy. No card, no note and no words. Since I never gave away the key I didn't bother knocking. I just walked in and took a seat.
Together again, yet still alone with my thoughts I stretched my arms over my head and screamed. It was an unexpected release of pent up energy. Still silent I moved closer and let my fingers begin exploring the trail that they had been down so many times before.
I did so knowing full well that when my business was done I would leave again. But we both know that I'll be back. Because the thing is that for the time being I haven't figured out how to get all of my needs met elsewhere. Fortunately there are no hard feelings because the lover I speak of is this very blog.
Yep, this joint, right here. So whatever feelings exist are those that I have placed here. It is still not my primary place of residence, but it has a piece of my heart so for a while I suppose that I will continue visiting.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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