Evil Geniuses in a Nutshell

(EDIT: I apologize for any long rants about things that have past. It needed to get out, thats all I'll say)

Is it not strange, the power of music. It shapes our thoughts, our moods. It associates with things happy and sad, pulling them back. Tonight is a night for thought, for a return to an early time - and though some may call me a fool for lamenting the loss, though some may not understand why... tonight is not a night for burying thoughts.

It began with an image of a woman I loved - not a goddess, nor an angel simply a woman - pulled from my mind by the lyrics of a song I have long sought to bury from memory. What it is that stills binds me to my memories, I cannot say - we bickered and argued about the smallest thing and even though I did her wrong, I still say I love her. I miss her tender words at appropriate places, the feeling of being held at night and her drive for life - I miss being out and about on the town, seeing new things, meeting new people and simply being in the world instead of behind my computer screen. I even miss the arguments, some were delightfully interesting and perhaps I even learned something. I miss the nights of watching movies, the feeling of having somebody who wanted to always be there. I miss feeling like I was a part of somebodies life and I miss our hours of exploration. I miss the spontaneous feeling and not having to dig forever to see one part of her mind. I miss missing class to spend more time with her, I miss not being envious of other people because I know who I'll be going home with tonight. I miss being trusted along in her house, I miss helping and being helped with school work. I miss the music, I miss the videos we watched - I miss being bitched at for how much I play Runescape. I miss trying on her clothes, helping her dye her hair, having my hair dyed. I miss having a person who was as much a part of my life as myself. I miss the daring moments, the chances of being caught. I miss the looks in her eye, the feel of her skin. I miss her warmth on winter nights and her playfulness. I miss commenting on her artwork and I miss her acceptance of my nerd side, emo side and insane side.

But I do not regret having all of these things. All I regret is being enough of an idiot to push her away. All I regret are my constant flipflops when I knew all along where I should be, I just couldn't say it. I regret being weak enough not to be able to do what was right, and I regret losing her.

Tonight it started with an image - of a morning in her room, the window open to the winter's breeze and sunlight streaming in, casting shadows upon the wall. I remember waking up and having the sensation of a perfect moment in time - it all fit and I cannot recall ever being happier. And I realized that what I called "happy" up until then was a delusion - it was me telling myself that I am happy, that I should be happy when really I wasn't. But the thought was buried admist a torrent of painful thoughts of the words I would need to say to someone, words that I knew were right but that I could not bring myself to say. Even to the end, I lied to myself, to them, to most of the world until, finally, it all imploded.

And now, one year and a bit later, I look back and know the most crushing despair I have ever known - that I held in my arms the person I wanted and managed to ruin it all. So this poem tonight is dedicated to that person... she will never read it most likely, but it still must be said. I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it, but its all I can say and do now.

Goodnight.

--

Night Thoughts (Oct 21/2006)
Twas the line of melody
that brought night's wind
once more to my door.
Too late for amends, to admit
that I need to depend;
tossed in my face once more.

For I, the treacherous mate,
have fallen into darkness so deep;
but long ago buried my dead.
Tonight, of nights, the dead walk.

Where, in my travesty of lies,
did I lose sight of reality?
Now, with long sight reacing back
it all seems so clear, so laid out.
Where did my footsteps go astray?

An image, two images, three;
like an opening floodgate, they return.
And with it, the tears of shame.

Winters day, in cold and bleak December;
your window's wide open, provoking shivers.
And I twist in bed to gaze upon your face,
feel the warmth and know we're safe.
The moment, a perfect moment, our moment in time
Long lost for now and ever...

Autumns come and nearly spent its stay,
out and about, such a beautiful day.
Come up here, look over the river with me
Hold me tightly, joking slightly
Is this not how life should be?

Far away, in distant lands,
I feel the power of an abandoned heart.
And write of how it feels to be
left alone, why aren't you here with me?
Where is she, who's supposed to be?

And now, there is only a single tear
for what was to be, might have been,
should have been but never will be.
Yet worst of all, I know the truth,
though others I may seek to blame,
there is only one... and his name is me.