It's the 3rd consecutive day.
A week ago I was in the shits, trashbinned in blue by the vow of silence taken by Buddha for a perceived wrong I committed. I sent messages down her way, I did, playing face, being kind but she went heel and gave me quiet heat. Yup. Quiet heat. The worse "Oh what did I do?" kind. =( Ugh. No bueno. For a week of my life she was practically non-existent. A ghost whose cheer haunted my bedroom door. J Buddha's bright presence in my gloomy life flared away the shadows of being down. Yeep, she's that awesome. On a scale from 1-10, a profound 20. Now imagine that light gone. It's back in the dark, Señor Lacking. Except tragically worse because I knew how great she be.
Sometimes I think it would better if I didn't know Buddha. That way, she wouldn't be someone I care for a great deal . Someone I could lose. I could miss. I could be sad about.
Her jubilant face
When
She's tickled by delight
Stamped, after due-date
Delivered, only to fuzzy memory
No longer sent sweet fresh, yeah?
When
She looked to me - in the moment -
With a
Sparkle eye & smile+ bona fide
When J Buddha and I finally cleared things up it required the reveal of my feelings for her. I couldn't say it. I was frightened. I directed her towards my blog and she sat at the computer clicking, scrolling. Syllables paraded my affection in a procession whose pace was determined by her sight reading. I was nervous as I stood by. But it had to be done. Earlier in our reunion I moonsaulted into the deep end and shut myself off from communicating with her in the light manner that once was. I thought we could get by it. She said I changed. If I was to see her again it was either back to sleeping in my yellow room whenever she came around or say upfront that she's pretty darn cool, hah.
I told J Buddha her silence was the "longest week I've had this year."
"Really?"she said, bemused.
By then she dropped the dinner burn, her ire having faded away somewhere during her 7-day quiet and with my admiration freed I climbed out of the trashbin and went back dancing in the light of Girl Aum.
Drive.
I spot her on the sidewalk to my left. U-turn. "Good morning, Buddha."
AJ sleeps all lax on his bed un-taco'd, tucked cozily in beside a football pillow, blue ball, and a squeaky duck head. Buddha is at the kitchen table breakfasting on the barbecue chicken she eyed last night when she was here souping up her Pho take-out dinner. I sit at the table facing her more than the TV across from from us. I look at her inquisitively, my scrunched face unapparent to her as she eats with eyes set straight on the television. "Don't do it" she says without a skip. "Don't do what?" I ask, amused. She must have notice the unspoken change in
my demeanor. It's a certain aura of giddiness that overwhelms me when in the presence of a Whoa. "I'm not gonna compliment you, I'm just sitting here" says I with a follow-up defense. Somehow she stop-checked me before I even had the thought of the thought of saying she looks nice today. Dude, she's good.
Breakfast done, it's on to the car and on to work. It's an older model with a cassette tape player (Do you know what that is, kiddies?) In goes the wired cassette tape adapter connected to my mp3 player. It's only barely a touch through the music folders before Buddha chimes up again, "Don't do it." It must be my last night talk of asking permission to play suave with her if I were to drive her home. She said no with a sparkle and a bona fide and was instead brought home by Birthday Girl and her boyfriend. "Dohh" I get stop-checked again, now trance-like passing over the mp3 player to her. She probably thought I was going to play some Slow Jams. Suave mood music, aye? Hah.
"Did you write a song?" she asks, fiddling with the mp3 player looking for anything that isn't what I'm thinking of.
I reply, "For you? Well I've got a strummy bit I still need to put lyrics to I found it while you were still angry at me so the lyrics were going to be about that but then we're all cool now so it could be about that. Or I could combine the two and make a song of that?"
"No, Justin. No."
"How about a poem? Can I write poems about-"
"Noo." A snicker. A smirk. "Don't. You can't."
I says to her it's not like she reads the blog anyways so she wouldn't know of all the pretty little things I write about her. If I were to write about J Buddha. If I were to sing about Girl Aum. It's easy, girl. If you don't want the world to know how awesome you are just take your light away, yeah 20? Leave me back in the dark. I'll be okay. I think I might miss her though. Do know that she's guaranteed to be making somebody else happy. I just won't be beside her delight to write about it. For now, I'm blessed to be in her presence and I'll continue to pen the good word.
Just don't tell her it's about her.
How great she be.
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