In A Dream (Happy 10th Anniversary)
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom
And now the purple dust of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart.
High up in the sky, the little stars twine,
Always reminding me that we're apart.
You wandered down the lane and far away,
Leaving me a song that will not die;
Love is now the stardust of Yesterday,
The music of the years gone by...
In A Dream
(Happy 10th Anniversary)
I sent a text-message for the very first time to my estranged wife this morning.
Admittedly, it was a special one too.
Perhaps, I was compelled to write to make up for the one I didn’t send a few days ago. Perhaps, I wrote it because there have been far too many times over the years that I wanted to say something nice and something suddenly got in the way—or clamored a little louder or spoiled the moment in one way or another—much like how, on a billboard with a thousand other business cards , it is easy for your message to get lost amongst the fray.
Or perhaps, the motivation behind the message was compensation for all the lost years that have passed between us.
Nonetheless and allthemore, I wrote the following:
Just have to tell you that I dreamt of u-s last night and it reminded me of all the wonderful feelings we used to share. Btw, happy anniversary. Lorenzo
Oddly enough, as I was thumbing at the numbers simply to write about the dream, I suddenly remembered that today was, is, our anniversary date, our 10th anniversary.
I want to believe that any melancholy I might tender today is due to token remorse, but then, I had that dream.
There could be no stranger coincidence, because not only was our anniversary the farthest thing on my mind, but for some time now I actually had been searching for how I used to feel for her.
Every time someone asks me about the separation and how I feel, I usually earnestly and glibly answer, “I have no more feelings for her.” And that’s that.
For some odd reason, the women who ask, almost always, then ask, “Well how did you used to feel for her?”
Alas, I usually can only answer in the vaguest terms, “Uh, differently…I guess.”
For I know I loved her dearly, if not deeply. And as the mother of our children, as the person I shared much of the last decade of my life with, indeed I still and will always love and appreciate her for all the well-meaning effort and the two miracles she delivered to the world.
Yet, I’ve lost that loving feeling and I no longer would want to share and slurp on a single thread of spaghetti with her.
However, I found that-loving-feeling again in that dream, last night.
We were simply conversing, as far as I recall, chatting casually about nothing in particular, and suddenly, pangfully, she glanced at me like she used to—a shy glance toward me, while her smile coyly hid the other way. It was that same untainted and demure expression I used to know and love and cherish so well, one that magically always pulled me in; it was that smile, the one before the house, the job, the children and a million and one decisions and obligations that slowly but surely pulled us apart, if only because it became increasingly difficult to agree upon them all.
Yes, that smile brought it all back to me.
Alas, it looks like we’re not going on our Alaskan adventure after all, the one we began saving all our pennies for as soon as we returned from our honeymoon, but at least I remembered that smile, the one that used to mean the world to me.
I have no regrets. I accept that the disintegration of our relationship is all too normal and that the end is not the end. I like to think that it is only the beginning.
And since we are actually not divorced yet, I’d like to say, strange as it may seem, for I really harbor no hard feelings, Happy Anniversary Domenica, thank you for everything.
We are rather fortunate to have two beautiful boys and they are likewise lucky to have you as their mother.
...Sometimes, I wonder why I'll spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song.
The melody, haunts my revelry,
And I am once again with you.
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration,
But that was long ago,
Now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song.
Beside a garden wall
Where stars are bright
You are in my arms;
The nightingale tells its fairy tale
Of paradise where roses bloom.
Though I dream in vain,
In my heart
It will remain—
My stardust melody,
The memory of loves refrain.
— Stardust, Hoagey Carmichael & Mitchel Parish —
p.s. Albeit, our anniversary make actually be tomorrow (because after all these years I’m still not sure if it is 24 or 25), I say better a day early, than to have forgotten. No?