January 16, 2003
Your Joni
"I am a lonely painter, I live in a box of paints..."
I put Joni Mitchell's 'A Case of You' on constant repeat. Be prepared.
Mike had a dream that he was The President and I was his First Lady. I corrected him, claiming that it would be I who would be The President and he my First Lady.
We, were, apparently, in the hot tub alot, and someone was trying to kill him, but he wasn't concerned so much with that as he was with the fact that he got no time to spend with me, nor to spend with himself. In his words, there was no 'me-time.'
Well, all of his 'me-time' I have officially taken for 'my-time.' He'll come to terms with it.
I had a dream, one which I did not tell him all the particulars of, that the house he will be buying in June/July was large and beautiful and in the country but close enough to the city, with a big sprawling yard aching for wildflowers, and a myriad of windwows begging for faces to gaze out of them.
I was excited, because we were going to live in this house. I began picking out wall draperies, velvets in several different shades of green.
"I drew a map of Canada, O Canada, with your face sketched on it twice..."
I wrote poetry for him, sitting at one of the green study desks in the Mosler Hall common room. Sometimes I can just be sitting there, and an image of him with the driving goggles on will emerge in my mind, and I'll smile and I'm sure that my eyes sparkle and a little butterfly goes dancing about in my stomach.
I wonder what he sees in me.
"You're in my blood like holy wine, you taste so bitter, and yet so sweet..."
There isn't anything desperate about this, and perhaps that is why it is so wonderful. When I am with him, it feels like we have all the time in the world, even if, at that moment, it only happens to be fifteen or twenty minutes. He makes me feel like a woman and a girl all at once, he makes me feel a thousand things.
"Love is touching souls, surely you've touched mine, 'cause part of you pours out of me in these lines from time to time..."
There are so many things we still have yet to do, and so many things that we need to do again and again and again, and things we've done that we just need to talk about, laugh about... there are so many cartoons left to watch and so many cups of coffee yet untouched.
"I could drink a case of you, and I would still be on my feet..."
astera at 11:28 p.m.