before i go

let me just say this. i'm still waiting for you. damn it, i am. i try not to, but i find myself, even moreso now watching the horizon again. it's quite distracting. but i've got a lot of things pulling at me, a lot demanding my attention, so it's hard to carve out the pining space i once had. i just can't devote that kind of time to anyone but myself, which is probably a good thing. i'm sure it's a good thing. i invited a poet i know to visit me up at my residency and he said,

i don't want to intrude.

which was gracious. i find that i like to have something or someone comfortable with me when i go where i need to go, and always end up going alone, so why do i even try. it would just be more complexity than i need.

the staff will accomodate my late arrival, which is good, because i lack teleporting capabilities at the moment. so i cannot be there when they want me there. we'll see how it goes.

seems having done this so many times, things would be a bit clearer. but there are a lot of details to slip by. i get that. i'm looking forward to resting in between sessions. tough, that the thing i covet most is time alone in the sun or by a lake, but that's how it is for me. i may not make it to boston proper this time, i just have to take it easy. forced rest.

and now, still three hundred pages from my goal, i must away. must, must away.

though i would rather sit here and wait for you. you will not come. i know this. i understand this deep inside. but still i wait. it's the damnable thing about me, this predictability.