February 12 – the Gatsby effect

if i could capture today in a bottle

forever preserve this cottony soft feeling,

stitched together,

nothing missing,

no holes poked through me

but here i am staring at the problem in all of its glowing green glory,

an envy for something that belong to the past,

that word: if,

a deadly syllable

coloring every moment the green of longing, of jealousy, of disappointment

today was golden sanctity,

preciously unplanned,

irreproducible

i felt something frighteningly familiar as my love songs serenaded me home this morning

but i sent out a prayer

to something that eludes me,

and someone answered

i colored valentines

and carried conversations

and we watched The Great Gatsby

and drove home in the dark, speakers crackling at a volume loud enough to leave no room for anything else

i was happy

i am happy

i’ve spent February

swept up in anticipation,

the idea of something that could never compare to the reality of it—

it’s a lonely feeling

but the green light at the end of the dock,

the very words that i’ve copied down time and time again,

never really understanding what it all meant;

it meant this—

that you can’t find purpose in longing,

can’t find purpose in something you don’t have

and i feel a

little

less

alone,

knowing the greats felt like this too,

that someone cared enough to document the emptiness that fills the space of longing,

longing itself replacing what it was

so i’ll send out another prayer tomorrow,

find something to believe in,

let myself be one with the rhythm of rolling fields

under honey golden sunlight,

and maybe peace,

with her feathery edges and dancing iridescence,

will fill the space that longing left behind

maybe the words aren’t for you to read

but for me to write