Journal

I'm not close to this particular person anymore. In retrospect, I don't feel that I was ever all that close to him. We spent a fair amount of time together at a couple of different stretches, the first of those stretches we were officially dating, the second, we were sort of a couple, but yet not. Sort of a couple meaning, we probably appeared to the casual observer to be a couple. We engaged in normal dating activities. Going out to eat together, attending social events together, hanging out in bars together. But I never felt engaged with him, I often felt that except for the fact that there was another body there with me, I was essentially alone. He thought that he "got" me, thought that he knew me well, thought he knew what I needed and wanted. He rarely came close and over time I came to feel disconnected from him in a way that seemed like we spoke different languages. I screamed in silence when I was with him because I didn't know where to begin if I was to scream out loud, nor did I think I would be able to stop screaming if I was to unleash the uneasy dissatisfaction I felt. He did get one thing right, though. He gave me a gift. A beautiful journal with a drawing of a bicycle on the front that looked very much like my bike, and a graphic balloon on the cover containing these words:

First it begins inside your heart. Something
moves. Then opens. Then frees itself. And now
you feel a rhythm breaking its long silence.
This is going to be good.

And these words appear in a square inside the cover:

This is a space for dream words, love words, made up words,
fall down and get up words. Get to know the sound of your
own inner voice. Be creative. Be generous. Be bold.

Then this on the back cover:

It is here where she must begin
to tell her story.

He knows that I'm a writer. He even thinks I'm pretty good at it. So I have to say, despite all of the things we got wrong together, this one lovely gift to me he got completely right.