Dear Diary…

a short story poem

Photo by Hannah Olinger on Unsplash

She sat Indian style on her bed, soft music played in the background as she looked out her bedroom window watching as the sun began to descend. A subtle smile played over her lips while her blue/Grey eyes danced with varied thoughts that invariably led to him. Raising one hand she pushed her hair away from her face, leaning forward slightly to reach for a book she handled with the utmost care.

Opening to where she last made her entry, still smiling and thinking of him, she began to write…

Dear Diary,

I was able to talk with him again today. I can’t describe the feeling when I

do. And I really don’t want to get all mushy, but the man has a way of

making my toes curl and cause shivers to run up and down my spine! He’s just

too adorable for me and I’ve told him that. He just smiles at me, running

his fingers through my hair and gives my waist a slight squeeze.

I wonder if I’m not moving too fast with him… saying to him the things

that I so wish to come true. My ultimate desire. My wanting of him. My

almost… no.. not almost.. for its real, this need of him. How is it that

we’ve known each other like this, but have only recently “connected” in a

re-discovery of he and I. Of a past that we both feel has brought us to

where we are now?

Is there irony in this? A joke maybe that fate or even destiny is playing?

I’m not sure. I hear the sound of his voice with me all the time. I imagine

him to be right next to me, more so while I wait for sleep and the dreams to

come and take me away. I don’t know where this will go, nor do I know how

far it will take us.

But one thing that I do know, is that I’m falling. And in a way that scares

me. For I’ve begun to question how that can be. I’ve caught myself several

times in wanting to blurt out those words. But I bite my tongue to prevent

myself from perhaps pushing him away if I did say them.

I can’t deny that I’m confused. Nor can I deny that I know what I’m feeling.

For I have no idea what it is that I’m feeling. Not totally. Would we both

know it to be love if it were that? Or is what this emotion is nothing but

desire and lust?

How can I tell him these things? Or do I really need to voice them when I

feel that he might be experiencing the same as I? And I wonder, too, if

perhaps it isn’t that one word that I fear saying is what I am feeling…

and if he’s not feeling it too….

So I wrote a little poem Diary, something that I know he will understand. We

both feel connected and that we have been brought full circle from lives

long since past to once more re-discover each other. I titled it “Boogie

with Destiny”… it seemed appropriate all things considered…

changes fill my time and that’s all right with me

for in the midst I think of you and what it could begin

laughter as its written ends inside though revealing my hope

dreams whisked away in a matchbox, clinging to the embrace

finding my way in the night that never stops moving

meet me in the morning light to feel alright; run with me

dazed in confusion in emotional upheaval that toss and turn

twisting to writhe; not to escape but to gather closer to me

secrets to be told when held in the embrace of flames

past nightmares that barely left me holding on in reach

gentle hand that loses command of healing rivers that run

every time i call out to the darkness; another day has begun

cross that line and step to the other side with me

take my hand and don’t let go; sweet tastes to enrich

feel my fire turn into a brand new flame that goes on

the witching hour draws near and the spell has been cast

give unto me the nectar you keep within to sacrifice

take me home; take me there; take me to fulfill the destiny

--

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Shelly

Shelly

One day at a time and sharing my experiences.