But instead

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I called her today.. I called her because I wanted to tell her how much I loved her.
How much she means to me. How she had once been the very center of my world,
and no one had ever been able to take her place…
But instead we talked about the weather, her class reunion,
and the way that age had of making things that once seemed so all important
bleed and fade like unblotted ink on a page….

I called her today. I wanted to remind her that she was my first love,
that I had never loved anyone as much as I loved her.
That it was her love that had made all other loves possible..
And against which, they would all forever be judged.
But instead I told her about the the poem I had written, and the book I may well never finish.
We talked about the garden and the dogs and the man who said he would come to cut the grass,,
but never did…

I called her today. My heart so full of love, my mind overflowing with memories
of the times we spent in each others arms, the tender goodnight kisses, the loving glances
that stripped me of my insecurities and made me feel as if I could conquer the world
But instead I told her that I would talk to her later, as this long distance was costing me a fortune-
and anyway, I should be feeding the cats, and getting the dogs in for dinner, or folding the clothes
that finished drying an hour or so ago….

I called her today. With every intention of making today the day I told her
all the things that have been weighing so heavily on my heart.
All the things I have wanted to say for so long but had never gathered the courage to do so,,
All the things I don’t want either of us to ever leave this world without me having said…
But instead I waited until after we had said our goodbyes, and then added- almost as an afterthought-
“I love you…but you know that, right?”

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Hors d’oeuvre?

I empty myself onto the page. I bleed and spit and wretch. I masticate the sinuous scraps I cannot swallow, spread them on saltines, and serve them as hors d’oeuvres. I offer them to strangers, on gaily appointed silver platters saying, “Take of this and eat.” Because I know those words are baited, and he to whom they are ascribed, uses them to fish for men. In much the same way I fish for absolution.

Written for BrewNSpew cafe weekly prompt: Empty