happy place.

happy place.
I hate that I still get nervous when you call.
Even after all these years, the butterflies are still there.
I hate that when I convince myself to forget and let go,
that stupid song comes on the radio, out of no where, for no reason!
I hate how when I think about the happiest time in my life
we are back on the road up the coast and driving through miles of smiling cows.
I even hate that my simple pleasures, my hobbies, all somehow lead me back to you
And remind me of the times I spent beading butterflies and prayer beads
Stuffing envelopes full of love and me
I hate that sometimes when I close my eyes and silence the noise in my life
I can hear your voice whispering “sweet baby” and feel goose bumps still.
Vividly I remember the scent of your skin in the morning pacific ocean air
And the places we were in, and the many stolen kisses under sunlight, moonlight
And everything in between.
I hate that I feel breathless and almost childish each time you paint me beautiful.
I seem to forget feeling anything but happily peaceful when I listen to your sighs.
I hate that no matter how much I say I hate these things
It never seems to change how I feel about you.
Most of all I hate that I know I can feel this way about someone
And be without them, missing them, and feeling jipped .
And to be completely honest I have never hated how I feel
Only that you’ve never known how much I hate that you are not here
That I am not there and that we are not on that road, looking at happy cows
And catching a glimpse of what happy looks and smells like…

Another original poem written over a year ago, edited, revised, and I think finished for now. A happy memory, and a happy place...how I wish I could smell that ocean air on the cliff..and wave at the happy cows on my way to the purest happy moment my heart has ever known....

Jesuis Aime'

(image: sunsurfer.tumblr.com)