Don’t Ever Wanna Miss You

Still can hardly endeavor to believe
You’re right here beside me
Smilin and holding me close
I wanna fold you into forever

Dreamt of you through my tears
All those years
Something about you
Heals what’s broken in me

No longer standing still
I love and I feel
You and me, we are real
Don’t ever wanna miss you…

Stay

Unspoken words hang still in the air

The breath catches in my throat

Life, it seems, is never fair

Like a silent movie, it plays out til the bitter end

Regardless of dreams, wishes and cares

 

Emotions broil near the surface

Time… running into turmoil

Why is life such a complicated mess?

Can’t we just hold each other into the night?

 

I just love you and Love is worth the fight

I want you to stay and never take flight

Love me, my soul, all in due time

We are worth the climb.

Disappearing Act, Redux

“…This whole rubber band theory that is played out in the beginning of relationships? Well, it sucks, guys. When a guy disappears and barely calls, it takes all those wonderful moments you’ve shared and puts them in the BIG question box. Understand- we know you want to keep part of your independence and are probably feeling a bit scared, possibly don’t know if you want to jump into something that can hurt you, most likely you aren’t ‘in touch’ with your feelings or don’t like sharing them because guys generally aren’t touchy-feely like that.
But you hurt others when you pull these disappearing acts- particularly the woman you’ve been seeing. Sometimes her neighbors and friends, if you’ve done your job…
Also, if you keep disappearing and reappearing, you may just break that darned rubber band.

This is my current status message on Facebook. This summer has been one of the most confusing since I have begun dating. It has also been one of the most love-filled. I suppose that is why I haven’t thrown in the towel thus far. But come on. I have spent way more time alone, wondering what the hell is going on, than with him. Sure, those times are awesome, fill me with such wonder for the way of the world and I wouldn’t go back and change them. Like I have said previously, I would rather love and lose than never love at all. But these disappearing acts? They’re getting old.

This time, he has not done so without a reason, and for that, I am happy. But he could call. If he cared, you would think he would. But he doesn’t always do so. It is as if he truly holds a repugnance for the telephone and all its ways. I finally caved and called him after not hearing from him (with the exception of two text messages, one oddly worded) and he did answer. But he ought to call me. I’m not super old-fashioned. But that should be a given. It’s already known to me that men like to be the initiators. So when he doesn’t call, I feel pathetic initiating. I’m not going to do it again.

I understand why he can’t come to see me. But like I said, he could call if he cared. If he’s feeling that worried, scared or whatever and wants to, as he calls it, ‘run away,’ then do it, but at least have the class to tell me so I am not wondering what the heck happened. Particularly when the last time we were together, everything seemed fine, in fact, you were more affectionate than usual, caressing my face, speaking of love, saying how much you ‘like’ me- I could see love in your eyes. Tell me you just turn it off. If so, tell me how you do it because I’d really like to do that right about now.

For my poetry enthusiasts, sorry I have not been posting poems, I’ve been in a place of some inner turmoil, but not quite ready to explore it yet. I did write this today, however:

Leapt across time

Braved a few storms

Protested, rejected, loved, hurt

Loved, oh yes, in many forms

You, oh yes you, mine?

We said hello, goodbye

Miss you, majestically grand, lofty dreams

Now I sit alone & Sigh

Slow song feelin sad staring high

Why you never call?

Disappear, reappear, love me more

Tell me what

What you got in store

I see you and I forget

the hurt

The Hurt from before

Introducing Jeff Dawson, author of Love’s True Second Chance

I would like to introduce my readers to Jeff Dawson, author of Love’s True Second Chance. He is an author I met via the Meet Our Authors forum on Amazon’s discussion boards.

I spent the last twenty-five years in the road construction industry. I have been married and divorced once with three grown children. I started writing years ago but never took it serious until I had back surgery in 2010. During the recovery process I looked at and analyzed my life. An article in the Dallas Morning News caught my eye about public speaking. “Hey, I can do this. But what would I write?” I reflected over my life and came up with the first work “Why did Everything Happen?” As turbulent as my life has been (bankruptcy, divorce, business failures and the death of my partner, my father and Debbie), there must be others who might benefit and be able to relate to my travels but were afraid to talk about much less write them down.

Loves True Second Chance is a continuation of the first work. I wrote about the woman I had loved for over thirty years. I wanted to let people know that Love is worth a second chance even if there is a possibility of a tragic end. We packed a lifetime of love in seven short months.

I am currently working on two novels One is a paranormal story occurring during WWII. The Germans might have conquered Poland but they have awoken an enemy they could never imagine except in their darkest nightmares; Occupation. The second novel is based on the largest battle in Eastern Europe during WWII which allowed the Normandy landings to be a stunning success.

I currently live in the DFW close to two of my grown children and three wonderful grand-daughters.


Excerpt from Love’s True Second Chance:

CHAPTER 1 THE END

July 20th, 2009 7:00am I held her hand and kissed her face with the arrival of a sunny beautiful morning, hoping for a miracle. The shift change for nurses and doctors was in full swing. Staff checking in, charts being reviewed, doctors and nurses exchanging information; vital signs being verified. Debbie’s breathing is very labored as it had been for the last twenty four hours. I never knew if each breath would be her last. The cancer was running its course through her beautiful body at a terrible pace. An aide came in to change the sheets and clean her up. She asked if I would like her to wash Debbie’s hair. I pondered the thought for a minute looking at the love of my live and replied in a hushed, choked tone, “She would like that. How long will it take you to change her bed and wash her hair?” She said about fifteen minutes. I stepped out of the room and called her friend Cathey to get an estimated time of arrival. She assured me she would be at the hospital within thirty minutes.

Debbie was in good hands with the aide.  I decided to get a little air, purchase a coke and have a cigarette. I went to the store with one thought running through my mind, Is there anything else I can do for her?  Had I done everything I could for the “love of my life”?  Would God sit by her side and let her live out her life on earth or whisper in her ear, take her hand, and guide her to heaven?  I had no control over what was happening to her.