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epistle log 0ero
automatic pilot light
here it is: long anticipated, and quite procrastinated: the first and pilot entry of the soon to be overwhelming tide of my life named the epistle log. this will jump right in: for the backstory and an explanation, go to the website.
disclaimer: this damn e-mail program has no spell check. so this will be filled with typos and errors. get over it. life isn't perfect, and i sure as hell am not, so don't expect this to be. you have been selected, even though some of you don't know me, to partake in this. if you wish to discontinue your participation in this little venture, mail me and tell me so and i will gladly remove you with little concern or consternation. also, feedback is desired and almost begged for. so, without further ado . . . .
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wednesday night i had a dream. i know chuck did too, but this is a little different. actually very different.
i dreamt about colleen. for the first time in a long, long time. i've slowly come to the realization that, while i see her picture and smile and butterflies everyday, she is slowly fading from my life. maybe she realized this too, because this was the most vivid dream of her i've had since the night she died. in fact, it was a waking dream, and it was the same dream i had that night, but this time i knew why i was sad: i knew she was dying. it was one of those dreams that drifted between two places, familiar yet not distinct, and i said little or nothing. like most waking dreams, it was hazy: no true memories, but impressions, feelings, images. i looked at her, rested my head on her knees, looked into her eyes. i couldn't tell her she was dying, and i couldn't tell her that i loved her (i never got the chance to in real life, so why should i in a dream?).
it was true sorrow i felt, which i rarely have felt (i have no difficulty admitting my sheltered life). and yet, when the alarm went off, i wanted didn't want the dream to end: i wanted to drink in the delicious pain of sorrow. and yet, i had to wake up and rush off to do things that seemed so meaningless, compared to spending another 15 false minutes enjoying one of the most painful memories of my life.
and yet, life rolls on with brutal deliberation, and she grows farther and farther from me.
that hurts. the dull pain of a slow loss of a large part of me.
damn.
but, somewhere, she's smiling now. why? because i still can't eat a piece of hard candy without biting it, and without thinking about it.
and it's all her fault.
and i love her for it.
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so there you have it: the first entry into the epistle log. again, if you are intrigued, read the backstory: it will explain a whole lot through a micro- to macro-cosm type thing. whatever. please respond. thanks for your trouble.
02|19|98