Our Own Country from cshindle1 on 8tracks.

It’s the still of the night where I find some of my deepest and most introspective thoughts and dreams. It’s typically the weekend where I can really afford the time to let go of my conservatisms of being equipped to head to work and be responsible. It’s the kind of night where I’ve been able to sit back and reflect on the aspects of my life which are truly most valuable.

I don’t get a lot of time to do it. The weekends are finite and my energy level and inspiration are much more endangered than ever before. That’s what happens when you’re a dad. Not that it takes chemical stimulation, but I’ve been able to unlock some of my deepest soulful feelings with the help of inebriants. Tonight is no different. And with that, I’m caught thinking about my fortunes and how I’ve never really publically let down my veil of secrecy on this blog.

I spend a lot of time pontificating about what I think life is, my lessons I glean from my kids, and how much I love the music and hate ‘the Man.’ Tonight, I spent the evening watching a chick flick. And normally this would mean nothing, but I also stumbled on to a song earlier while working on a Saturday for the man which seemed to prime to proverbial pump of inspiration. This is an entry to the love of my life that has saved me from everything I thought that would take my life.

If I can start with the simplest message; I love you. And this isn’t enough. I still don’t measure up. I think we both know that the last few months have been difficult by our standards. I haven’t been the most open. My communication has been less than efficient. I know I could’ve explained things better, expressed things clearer, been more transparent with my feelings. You could’ve been more connected to me. I’ve felt your distance, like a cold highway to nowhere at times. Some may have been my gross misinterpretation of reality. To that I’m guilty. But some is the plateau of complacency a relationship can reach at times when life trumps teamwork.

Tonight is my night to sidestep the routine and seize that late night moment of tranquility and inspiration to eloquently plant the seed of confidence and concern.

There’s a contentment that you reach in a relationship and I suppose at times it’s easy to misconstrue for complacency. After all, we’re not the youngsters who had the knotted up sexual tension as a result of bad timing and inappropriate circumstances. As everyone knows, I’m still that young boy that met you years ago and hung onto the gleaming hope that you would give me the time of day. Now that I know the time of day and the clock seems to always be ticking forward despite how hard I dig my heels in, we’re growing up and those innocently guilty years are behind us.

And that’s OK. And as easy as it sounds, we can’t lose the intimate focus of love on each other. It’s easy to look in the rear view mirror and evaluate the road that you’ve driven over these years. And it’s obvious that my metaphoric driving hasn’t been the safest or the most insurable. Before you, the official you, I’ve wrecked many a car. My journey has been riddled with horrible decisions where it’s cost me sanity, self respect, and dignity. All for the thrill of the speed of life. And interestingly, coincidentally, or even karmically, you’ve always been in the traffic jam of my life. It took me years to figure out the direction it would take to find the true depth of love.

Shit it may have been a dozen years of criss-crossing you during the gridlock of our relationships. It was easy to wave out of the window and wonder what it would be like to be in the same car. Only years later we are now caught in traffic together. Enough with the car metaphors. Get to the point.

I wish I could. I used to be eloquent. I could tell the story, elevate the audience to a new level of thinking, and connect them to something so deep. I’d been told that I could recite the alphabet and people would listen on the edge of their seats waiting for that next letter. Tonight, I’m struggling to put it all together. I hate not feeling like I can tell you in words how I feel. It’s hard knowing that you feel something so strong and so deep and you’re not able to effectively and eloquently communicate to the one person that needs to know it more than anyone else.

What I know is this:

No words are enough. Nothing I can write here will ever do justice the level of the deepest most soulful love I have for you. It’s more than a peck the cheek or the firm embrace. It’s more than the stern discipline that we team together on our boys. It’s more than the tender kiss on your neck. Even with a vivid imagination, I can’t even approximate a life where you and I don’t drive together. There’s that car metaphor again. If I could just tell you without words. But I don’t know how. What I do know that is that I hold you above everyone and everything.

You represent everything I’d sacrifice everything for. It’s a unit of teamwork where confidence overrides anxiety. I’m learning everyday that the novelty of intrigue and the unexpected can be happily superseded by the hands of time and lovely comfort.