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| Topic: Love Like That | |
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She read Josephine’s letters and cried She wanted a love like that I guess the closest thing she could remember was the time one of her boyfriends wrote her a poem. It wasn’t very good and like most times with her men it was too late. They had already broken up. In fact, she recalls the night he told her he was leaving. How those words like briers tugged at her skin. From her heart moving outward, slowly scraping at her and not stopping until it reached the tips of all her extremities. So clear he was that night; so matter-of- fact and oh, so, damn arrogant. She hated him for lying to her though the lie was her realization that he was not leaving that day at that moment no, he had been gone for months. We could have been lovers…Her and I If not, for the timing of life getting in the way. We’ve spent most of the days we have known each other, either falling or healing but, always at separate stages and never with one-an-other. We have never discussed it, never acted upon it, though it does seem to lurk just below the surface with us. You can see it in the hugs that sometimes last longer than a friends` should. It is evident in the jealous glare of her latest auditioner. It shows up in the late night calls and the unannounced visits she is so famous for. We double dated one time and spent the entire evening talking to each other. Sat next to each other at dinner and pretty much lost track of the two unlucky people we were supposed to be out with. It was sad for them yet, she and I often laugh about it, even now. It’s kind of strange the way she never notices it, the way I look at her. The way I am always there for her. How I just seem to never have plans when she calls. How I take care of her when she is sick or as too often the case, the way I hold her hair when she has too much to drink. I remember last winter; she stopped by one very cold night. I remember this night for two reasons, not because of the freezing temperature but, because when she walked through my door the crisp, cold, clean winter air didn’t really follow her in, it attached itself to her. It was like every follicle of her hair breathed in the freshness and held on to it only to discharge it slowly throughout the night. Like little time release scent capsules of awakening and affirmation. (To this day it still lingers in my mind) As I removed her coat and she walked away I just stood there and soaked it all in. Secondly because, we sat on the couch, shared two bottles of wine and just talked all night. We watched a movie but, couldn’t tell you what it was. Somewhere between yawning and first light she fell asleep on me. And I do mean “on me” her head was on my chest, her elbow was digging into me and most of her weight was over my left leg. Cutting off the circulation and sending it into a slow and numbing sleep. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable night of my life but, I didn’t wake her. I managed to get the blanket over both of us and just enjoyed having her close. I must have run my fingers through her hair a thousand times (it was all I could do to keep from burring my face in it) the scent was still there and she looked so beautiful, peaceful. At one point she raised her head, looked at me and simply smiled. That was when I knew I was not going to move a muscle the rest of the night or the rest of the next day for that matter. I dosed off for a while and woke from the sun shining brightly through the room. She had moved her arm from trying to penetrate my ribs and had it under me. The other arm was resting across my chest with her hand on my shoulder. Mine? Well, one was hanging off of the couch and the other, in spite of me falling asleep never left her curls. Hell, I’m not sure I ever stopped passing my hand through them. We’ve had many nights like this over the years. I have watched her search and toil, get used and use, I’ve held her when she’s cried, laughed at and with her, I miss her when she is away and I’ve rescued her several times. And through all of this I can tell you, she is amazing. Except for the fact that she can’t see she already has a love like that. kc09 |
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Edited by
LAMom
on
Thu 01/22/09 07:40 PM
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As I got to read this amazing write earlier in the Day,,, I am in awe of the light within your Soul,, You shine my Dear
I so  You Page’s of her diary” ‘ Reminiscing, the night she fell in love, yet, alone to travel. What if, our love ends and this friendship is never more? What if, How can I live without him in my life? What if, for just a moment I let him in? Let him in, scary a thought, share my most inner thoughts, secrets and worries, leaving my flesh open to light which in fact can torch my very core. FORBIDDEN…. reminding myself the promises made to each other, Friends for all Eternity, yet I weep deep within my Soul, this gift he gives, touches my very core. Countless hours spent talking and sharing life’s trivial pursuits Laughing and carrying on, as if, it were just them two, knowing, wondering Could this be more than two friends finding comfort within the light? Lying awake at night, Asking once again? Should I unveil my feelings and reveal and become vulnerable to pain and sorrow? Love & honor, like friendship & trust, This, which holds her captive, leaves her wanting so much more. |
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She read Josephine’s letters and cried She wanted a love like that I guess the closest thing she could remember was the time one of her boyfriends wrote her a poem. It wasn’t very good and like most times with her men it was too late. They had already broken up. In fact, she recalls the night he told her he was leaving. How those words like briers tugged at her skin. From her heart moving outward, slowly scraping at her and not stopping until it reached the tips of all her extremities. So clear he was that night; so matter-of- fact and oh, so, damn arrogant. She hated him for lying to her though the lie was her realization that he was not leaving that day at that moment no, he had been gone for months. We could have been lovers…Her and I If not, for the timing of life getting in the way. We’ve spent most of the days we have known each other, either falling or healing but, always at separate stages and never with one-an-other. We have never discussed it, never acted upon it, though it does seem to lurk just below the surface with us. You can see it in the hugs that sometimes last longer than a friends` should. It is evident in the jealous glare of her latest auditioner. It shows up in the late night calls and the unannounced visits she is so famous for. We double dated one time and spent the entire evening talking to each other. Sat next to each other at dinner and pretty much lost track of the two unlucky people we were supposed to be out with. It was sad for them yet, she and I often laugh about it, even now. It’s kind of strange the way she never notices it, the way I look at her. The way I am always there for her. How I just seem to never have plans when she calls. How I take care of her when she is sick or as too often the case, the way I hold her hair when she has too much to drink. I remember last winter; she stopped by one very cold night. I remember this night for two reasons, not because of the freezing temperature but, because when she walked through my door the crisp, cold, clean winter air didn’t really follow her in, it attached itself to her. It was like every follicle of her hair breathed in the freshness and held on to it only to discharge it slowly throughout the night. Like little time release scent capsules of awakening and affirmation. (To this day it still lingers in my mind) As I removed her coat and she walked away I just stood there and soaked it all in. Secondly because, we sat on the couch, shared two bottles of wine and just talked all night. We watched a movie but, couldn’t tell you what it was. Somewhere between yawning and first light she fell asleep on me. And I do mean “on me” her head was on my chest, her elbow was digging into me and most of her weight was over my left leg. Cutting off the circulation and sending it into a slow and numbing sleep. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable night of my life but, I didn’t wake her. I managed to get the blanket over both of us and just enjoyed having her close. I must have run my fingers through her hair a thousand times (it was all I could do to keep from burring my face in it) the scent was still there and she looked so beautiful, peaceful. At one point she raised her head, looked at me and simply smiled. That was when I knew I was not going to move a muscle the rest of the night or the rest of the next day for that matter. I dosed off for a while and woke from the sun shining brightly through the room. She had moved her arm from trying to penetrate my ribs and had it under me. The other arm was resting across my chest with her hand on my shoulder. Mine? Well, one was hanging off of the couch and the other, in spite of me falling asleep never left her curls. Hell, I’m not sure I ever stopped passing my hand through them. We’ve had many nights like this over the years. I have watched her search and toil, get used and use, I’ve held her when she’s cried, laughed at and with her, I miss her when she is away and I’ve rescued her several times. And through all of this I can tell you, she is amazing. Except for the fact that she can’t see she already has a love like that. kc09 Oh god. This is really beautiful. Well worded, simplistic, painting a visual of a memory we've all had at one more or another in our lives. I love this Kev. It's just gorgeous~ |
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As I got to read this amazing write earlier in the Day,,, I am in awe of the light within your Soul,, You shine my Dear I so You Page’s of her diary” ‘ Reminiscing, the night she fell in love, yet, alone to travel. What if, our love ends and this friendship is never more? What if, How can I live without him in my life? What if, for just a moment I let him in? Let him in, scary a thought, share my most inner thoughts, secrets and worries, leaving my flesh open to light which in fact can torch my very core. FORBIDDEN…. reminding myself the promises made to each other, Friends for all Eternity, yet I weep deep within my Soul, this gift he gives, touches my very core. Countless hours spent talking and sharing life’s trivial pursuits Laughing and carrying on, as if, it were just them two, knowing, wondering Could this be more than two friends finding comfort within the light? Lying awake at night, Asking once again? Should I unveil my feelings and reveal and become vulnerable to pain and sorrow? Love & honor, like friendship & trust, This, which holds her captive, leaves her wanting so much more. thank you for putting up with me and this... and thank you for the work you added it definitely brings a different perspective...
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She read Josephine’s letters and cried She wanted a love like that I guess the closest thing she could remember was the time one of her boyfriends wrote her a poem. It wasn’t very good and like most times with her men it was too late. They had already broken up. In fact, she recalls the night he told her he was leaving. How those words like briers tugged at her skin. From her heart moving outward, slowly scraping at her and not stopping until it reached the tips of all her extremities. So clear he was that night; so matter-of- fact and oh, so, damn arrogant. She hated him for lying to her though the lie was her realization that he was not leaving that day at that moment no, he had been gone for months. We could have been lovers…Her and I If not, for the timing of life getting in the way. We’ve spent most of the days we have known each other, either falling or healing but, always at separate stages and never with one-an-other. We have never discussed it, never acted upon it, though it does seem to lurk just below the surface with us. You can see it in the hugs that sometimes last longer than a friends` should. It is evident in the jealous glare of her latest auditioner. It shows up in the late night calls and the unannounced visits she is so famous for. We double dated one time and spent the entire evening talking to each other. Sat next to each other at dinner and pretty much lost track of the two unlucky people we were supposed to be out with. It was sad for them yet, she and I often laugh about it, even now. It’s kind of strange the way she never notices it, the way I look at her. The way I am always there for her. How I just seem to never have plans when she calls. How I take care of her when she is sick or as too often the case, the way I hold her hair when she has too much to drink. I remember last winter; she stopped by one very cold night. I remember this night for two reasons, not because of the freezing temperature but, because when she walked through my door the crisp, cold, clean winter air didn’t really follow her in, it attached itself to her. It was like every follicle of her hair breathed in the freshness and held on to it only to discharge it slowly throughout the night. Like little time release scent capsules of awakening and affirmation. (To this day it still lingers in my mind) As I removed her coat and she walked away I just stood there and soaked it all in. Secondly because, we sat on the couch, shared two bottles of wine and just talked all night. We watched a movie but, couldn’t tell you what it was. Somewhere between yawning and first light she fell asleep on me. And I do mean “on me” her head was on my chest, her elbow was digging into me and most of her weight was over my left leg. Cutting off the circulation and sending it into a slow and numbing sleep. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable night of my life but, I didn’t wake her. I managed to get the blanket over both of us and just enjoyed having her close. I must have run my fingers through her hair a thousand times (it was all I could do to keep from burring my face in it) the scent was still there and she looked so beautiful, peaceful. At one point she raised her head, looked at me and simply smiled. That was when I knew I was not going to move a muscle the rest of the night or the rest of the next day for that matter. I dosed off for a while and woke from the sun shining brightly through the room. She had moved her arm from trying to penetrate my ribs and had it under me. The other arm was resting across my chest with her hand on my shoulder. Mine? Well, one was hanging off of the couch and the other, in spite of me falling asleep never left her curls. Hell, I’m not sure I ever stopped passing my hand through them. We’ve had many nights like this over the years. I have watched her search and toil, get used and use, I’ve held her when she’s cried, laughed at and with her, I miss her when she is away and I’ve rescued her several times. And through all of this I can tell you, she is amazing. Except for the fact that she can’t see she already has a love like that. kc09 Oh god. This is really beautiful. Well worded, simplistic, painting a visual of a memory we've all had at one more or another in our lives. I love this Kev. It's just gorgeous~ thank you A i so appreciate you and your comments too... but, you know this....right? 
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as always I'm in awe of your writes,just beautiful
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as always I'm in awe of your writes,just beautiful awwwwww thank you P so nice of you to stop by 
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You know what?
She loved me with her eyes and I loved her with my tears. That's how we touched and that's how I embrace her still. My true love and my Valentine. Thank you, kc, for reminding me. 
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As I got to read this amazing write earlier in the Day,,, I am in awe of the light within your Soul,, You shine my Dear I so You Page’s of her diary” ‘ Reminiscing, the night she fell in love, yet, alone to travel. What if, our love ends and this friendship is never more? What if, How can I live without him in my life? What if, for just a moment I let him in? Let him in, scary a thought, share my most inner thoughts, secrets and worries, leaving my flesh open to light which in fact can torch my very core. FORBIDDEN…. reminding myself the promises made to each other, Friends for all Eternity, yet I weep deep within my Soul, this gift he gives, touches my very core. Countless hours spent talking and sharing life’s trivial pursuits Laughing and carrying on, as if, it were just them two, knowing, wondering Could this be more than two friends finding comfort within the light? Lying awake at night, Asking once again? Should I unveil my feelings and reveal and become vulnerable to pain and sorrow? Love & honor, like friendship & trust, This, which holds her captive, leaves her wanting so much more. thank you for putting up with me and this... and thank you for the work you added it definitely brings a different perspective... This was all you,, pure beauty pure grace,,, pure-ness of your soul |
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absolutely beautiful
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not to dout you but i know i have read this somewhere before.can you be kind and confirm this.im not kidding i have seen this very same stroy word for word in newyork about 12 years ago.all the same its beautiful.well done but yet its striking a memory of old. She read Josephine’s letters and cried She wanted a love like that I guess the closest thing she could remember was the time one of her boyfriends wrote her a poem. It wasn’t very good and like most times with her men it was too late. They had already broken up. In fact, she recalls the night he told her he was leaving. How those words like briers tugged at her skin. From her heart moving outward, slowly scraping at her and not stopping until it reached the tips of all her extremities. So clear he was that night; so matter-of- fact and oh, so, damn arrogant. She hated him for lying to her though the lie was her realization that he was not leaving that day at that moment no, he had been gone for months. We could have been lovers…Her and I If not, for the timing of life getting in the way. We’ve spent most of the days we have known each other, either falling or healing but, always at separate stages and never with one-an-other. We have never discussed it, never acted upon it, though it does seem to lurk just below the surface with us. You can see it in the hugs that sometimes last longer than a friends` should. It is evident in the jealous glare of her latest auditioner. It shows up in the late night calls and the unannounced visits she is so famous for. We double dated one time and spent the entire evening talking to each other. Sat next to each other at dinner and pretty much lost track of the two unlucky people we were supposed to be out with. It was sad for them yet, she and I often laugh about it, even now. It’s kind of strange the way she never notices it, the way I look at her. The way I am always there for her. How I just seem to never have plans when she calls. How I take care of her when she is sick or as too often the case, the way I hold her hair when she has too much to drink. I remember last winter; she stopped by one very cold night. I remember this night for two reasons, not because of the freezing temperature but, because when she walked through my door the crisp, cold, clean winter air didn’t really follow her in, it attached itself to her. It was like every follicle of her hair breathed in the freshness and held on to it only to discharge it slowly throughout the night. Like little time release scent capsules of awakening and affirmation. (To this day it still lingers in my mind) As I removed her coat and she walked away I just stood there and soaked it all in. Secondly because, we sat on the couch, shared two bottles of wine and just talked all night. We watched a movie but, couldn’t tell you what it was. Somewhere between yawning and first light she fell asleep on me. And I do mean “on me” her head was on my chest, her elbow was digging into me and most of her weight was over my left leg. Cutting off the circulation and sending it into a slow and numbing sleep. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable night of my life but, I didn’t wake her. I managed to get the blanket over both of us and just enjoyed having her close. I must have run my fingers through her hair a thousand times (it was all I could do to keep from burring my face in it) the scent was still there and she looked so beautiful, peaceful. At one point she raised her head, looked at me and simply smiled. That was when I knew I was not going to move a muscle the rest of the night or the rest of the next day for that matter. I dosed off for a while and woke from the sun shining brightly through the room. She had moved her arm from trying to penetrate my ribs and had it under me. The other arm was resting across my chest with her hand on my shoulder. Mine? Well, one was hanging off of the couch and the other, in spite of me falling asleep never left her curls. Hell, I’m not sure I ever stopped passing my hand through them. We’ve had many nights like this over the years. I have watched her search and toil, get used and use, I’ve held her when she’s cried, laughed at and with her, I miss her when she is away and I’ve rescued her several times. And through all of this I can tell you, she is amazing. Except for the fact that she can’t see she already has a love like that. kc09 Oh god. This is really beautiful. Well worded, simplistic, painting a visual of a memory we've all had at one more or another in our lives. I love this Kev. It's just gorgeous~ thank you A i so appreciate you and your comments too... but, you know this....right? |
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it had been years since he allowed himself to think of her.
he had almost forgotten how she made him feel. and just when he wasnt exspecting it there she was. as beautiful as ever,her hair flowing like a feather on the wind.her eyes sparkled like gems. bright green gems rare and true. and her soft tanned skin glistening in the light of the room. in an instant he was brought back,to the days when he would wait on her hand and foot. when every moment of the day was consumed by the thoughts of her. how the very sound of her voice would make him smile,his herat would fluter.his knees would become week. when she touched him it was like being touched by an angle.soft gentle and caring. he was at a loss for words not sure what to say to her.after letting her go for fear of not being good enough for her. she noticed him as soon as she walked in stern strong,well groomed. his kind face and warm character had always made him stand out above all.she was ober taken by memories of how they would laugh and cry together.how she knew she could always count on him.and that no mater what he would love her reguardless of what she did.how they would make love for hours on end.and he would always make sure she was content before he was done.she had forgotten about that till that moment.and wondered where did that love like that go. as thay walked toward each other he was nervous,she was trembling.he said hello she replied in turn.they talked for about what seemed like for ever.but when they noticed the time only an hour had passed. after they got relaxed she asked why did you leave. he said in truth i didnt think i could be man enough for you. she smiled and as she walked away saying im married now.she stopped and looked at him and said you have been and will always be the man who was man enough you should have told me. as she left the room he thought i will not ever have a love like that |
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not to dout you but i know i have read this somewhere before.can you be kind and confirm this.im not kidding i have seen this very same stroy word for word in newyork about 12 years ago.all the same its beautiful.well done but yet its striking a memory of old. She read Josephine’s letters and cried She wanted a love like that I guess the closest thing she could remember was the time one of her boyfriends wrote her a poem. It wasn’t very good and like most times with her men it was too late. They had already broken up. In fact, she recalls the night he told her he was leaving. How those words like briers tugged at her skin. From her heart moving outward, slowly scraping at her and not stopping until it reached the tips of all her extremities. So clear he was that night; so matter-of- fact and oh, so, damn arrogant. She hated him for lying to her though the lie was her realization that he was not leaving that day at that moment no, he had been gone for months. We could have been lovers…Her and I If not, for the timing of life getting in the way. We’ve spent most of the days we have known each other, either falling or healing but, always at separate stages and never with one-an-other. We have never discussed it, never acted upon it, though it does seem to lurk just below the surface with us. You can see it in the hugs that sometimes last longer than a friends` should. It is evident in the jealous glare of her latest auditioner. It shows up in the late night calls and the unannounced visits she is so famous for. We double dated one time and spent the entire evening talking to each other. Sat next to each other at dinner and pretty much lost track of the two unlucky people we were supposed to be out with. It was sad for them yet, she and I often laugh about it, even now. It’s kind of strange the way she never notices it, the way I look at her. The way I am always there for her. How I just seem to never have plans when she calls. How I take care of her when she is sick or as too often the case, the way I hold her hair when she has too much to drink. I remember last winter; she stopped by one very cold night. I remember this night for two reasons, not because of the freezing temperature but, because when she walked through my door the crisp, cold, clean winter air didn’t really follow her in, it attached itself to her. It was like every follicle of her hair breathed in the freshness and held on to it only to discharge it slowly throughout the night. Like little time release scent capsules of awakening and affirmation. (To this day it still lingers in my mind) As I removed her coat and she walked away I just stood there and soaked it all in. Secondly because, we sat on the couch, shared two bottles of wine and just talked all night. We watched a movie but, couldn’t tell you what it was. Somewhere between yawning and first light she fell asleep on me. And I do mean “on me” her head was on my chest, her elbow was digging into me and most of her weight was over my left leg. Cutting off the circulation and sending it into a slow and numbing sleep. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable night of my life but, I didn’t wake her. I managed to get the blanket over both of us and just enjoyed having her close. I must have run my fingers through her hair a thousand times (it was all I could do to keep from burring my face in it) the scent was still there and she looked so beautiful, peaceful. At one point she raised her head, looked at me and simply smiled. That was when I knew I was not going to move a muscle the rest of the night or the rest of the next day for that matter. I dosed off for a while and woke from the sun shining brightly through the room. She had moved her arm from trying to penetrate my ribs and had it under me. The other arm was resting across my chest with her hand on my shoulder. Mine? Well, one was hanging off of the couch and the other, in spite of me falling asleep never left her curls. Hell, I’m not sure I ever stopped passing my hand through them. We’ve had many nights like this over the years. I have watched her search and toil, get used and use, I’ve held her when she’s cried, laughed at and with her, I miss her when she is away and I’ve rescued her several times. And through all of this I can tell you, she is amazing. Except for the fact that she can’t see she already has a love like that. kc09 Oh god. This is really beautiful. Well worded, simplistic, painting a visual of a memory we've all had at one more or another in our lives. I love this Kev. It's just gorgeous~ thank you A i so appreciate you and your comments too... but, you know this....right? Whatever. If you are going to accuse me of something like this the least you could do is come with a fact or a reference. I mean that is a pretty serious statement to make. If not bordering on slander |
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Edited by
LAMom
on
Fri 01/23/09 08:44 AM
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not to dout you but i know i have read this somewhere before.can you be kind and confirm this.im not kidding i have seen this very same stroy word for word in newyork about 12 years ago.all the same its beautiful.well done but yet its striking a memory of old.
****************************************** Wow, I can assure you That everything kc, posts is original and comes deep within his soul,,, He has spent countless hours writing and re-writing,, I can also assure you kc would never post anything that did not flow from his pen,,, Sorry Kev,, had to get my 2cents in |
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From 1/22 till now, the day I read this. Lost in a story so completely, I did not even notice the accusation so prettily slid in above the quote of the initial write. But alas, now I have seen it and like mom, my faith in the integrity and honesty of this original poster has been slapped with a gauntlet's glove whipping my head to the side as my cheek stings from the force of the verbal slap. My dragons begin to rumble within as the burn of "CHALLENGE" flames from my eyes. Yet, my Seuss humor wins out, "google that dust speck, google that dust speck" so I must even though I do not wish to feel that level of disappointment again.
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Edited by
LAMom
on
Fri 01/23/09 10:00 AM
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Integrity
Take not of thee Take my blood the knife that wounds Leave intact my Integrity Accusations thrown like steel Abstracting the very depth of thee Ponder a bit Search and seek Truth is This Man’s Core Remains Incredibly Aweeeeeeeeeee Intact |
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it had been years since he allowed himself to think of her. he had almost forgotten how she made him feel. and just when he wasnt exspecting it there she was. as beautiful as ever,her hair flowing like a feather on the wind.her eyes sparkled like gems. bright green gems rare and true. and her soft tanned skin glistening in the light of the room. in an instant he was brought back,to the days when he would wait on her hand and foot. when every moment of the day was consumed by the thoughts of her. how the very sound of her voice would make him smile,his herat would fluter.his knees would become week. when she touched him it was like being touched by an angle.soft gentle and caring. he was at a loss for words not sure what to say to her.after letting her go for fear of not being good enough for her. she noticed him as soon as she walked in stern strong,well groomed. his kind face and warm character had always made him stand out above all.she was ober taken by memories of how they would laugh and cry together.how she knew she could always count on him.and that no mater what he would love her reguardless of what she did.how they would make love for hours on end.and he would always make sure she was content before he was done.she had forgotten about that till that moment.and wondered where did that love like that go. as thay walked toward each other he was nervous,she was trembling.he said hello she replied in turn.they talked for about what seemed like for ever.but when they noticed the time only an hour had passed. after they got relaxed she asked why did you leave. he said in truth i didnt think i could be man enough for you. she smiled and as she walked away saying im married now.she stopped and looked at him and said you have been and will always be the man who was man enough you should have told me. as she left the room he thought i will not ever have a love like that Respectfully curious, Wench |
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Integrity Take not of thee Take my blood the knife that wounds Leave intact my Integrity Accusations thrown like steel Abstracting the very depth of thee Ponder a bit Search and seek Truth is This Man’s Core Remains Incredibly Aweeeeeeeeeee Intact |
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Integrity Take not of thee Take my blood the knife that wounds Leave intact my Integrity Accusations thrown like steel Abstracting the very depth of thee Ponder a bit Search and seek Truth is This Man’s Core Remains Incredibly Aweeeeeeeeeee Intact Hello you,, |
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Kev- I was utterly entranced, enthalled and engrossed in this wonderful story. I so enjoyed the brilliance that is you.
 
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