Lincoln City, Oregon 3/06

Gathered with good friends in this house
that is not our house but is our house,
I stare at the ocean and dream. Last night
I lay in bed with the endless murmur of the surf
underpinning a vague restlessness.
I wondered about love and its meaning and its
notable absence.

I have had love in my life, some great
and some ordinary, but is it fair to put
such judgments on love, to vest it with
degrees and gradients? Does this taxonomy
strip love of all value? My world is not
so simple anymore. Unrequited love
has left a hole in my heart, a void in my life.

It isn’t that I’m incomplete without you.
I know that I’m a whole and viable person,
but you brought me something new,
something different. You made me aware of
shapes and sounds that had never had meaning
before. In truth they were always present,
but in my ignorance I paid them scant attention.

What you provided was perspective, or at least
a different perspective than the one I had
grown comfortable with. I see now the
contemptibility of comfort. It is only when we
are pushed into uncharted oceans that
we can be fully human, and grow beyond ourselves.

From this roost above the Pacific I can
look down and see patterns not visible
from the sand. I can see the formation of waves
and the ebb and flow of the tide. It may seem trite
or simple, but perhaps I wouldn’t have noticed
or given thought had I not met you.

My friends grant me the space, the time,
and the freedom to be myself. I believe
I sometimes fail to return the favor. I’m
certain I failed with you. Now I’m left with
silent reflection and words on a page. There is
a reason it is called foolscap. It is only from the
perspective of advancing time and perhaps
advancing years that I can see myself as the fool.

The search for daily meaning is too much work.
I’m trying to find meaning in the
larger scheme of life, identify my place in the world.
Grandiose? Perhaps. Sadly, I find myself bogged down
in the minutiae, and further complicate matters for
myself by wondering what it means to seek meaning.

So what does it mean to be in love?
I can’t tell you that. I can’t be sure what
it means to me, but I know that I’ve had it
and I’ve lost it, and I miss it. I will not mourn
my lost love. I will celebrate that I once had love,
and look forward to its return.