Tom Robbins is right.
Perfection is subjective, oftentimes a cause of useless argument between two people. Perfection is one of the words with the most freedom and flexibility towards a person’s beliefs and preferences. Perfection is what we make it, perfection is how we make it. Love can be perfect. And it is between two people — who have the same understanding of this — where love’s perfection is recognized and embraced amidst adversities.
(Click to retrieve mail)
J: Would it be easier if we did not talk?
A: No, it won’t.
J: Good. ‘Cos that’s NOT going to happen!
J: Hey Aix, are you okay?
A: I’m great.
J: I know I’m not so good in keeping contact.
But I worry about you … every day.
Just because it seems cinematic, go cue in The Light House And The Whaler’s Always For You here: “Before all the healing, the thoughts and the feelings, I look to find you.” Had I seen his reply coming, I would have covered my video camera so he wouldn’t catch the split-second expression of shock on my face. Which wasn’t the case, of course.
Jude has been having front row seats to my down months. I’m not so sure if that’s a privilege; I’ve just grown tired of talking about my losses to everyone else. We both know though that resignation is the only coping mechanism I’ve managed to actually work on. I realize it’s not exactly the best way — but it’s the only way I know how to move on with my life. Worrying anyone any more than I already had (him included) wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. And whatever it was he saw on my face left him to say, “I miss you, Aix. I’m sorry I have to be so far away.”
