twilight time

There is a man out there that I will never know. He is a sharp eyed, proud man, standing tall against the slings and arrows.

This man is a good and loving father of a son and a daughter, both with dark hair and grey eyes, like their mother.

The son is a musician and a writer. His head full of dreams and spirit that can’t be contained.

The daughter is an artist and has a very practical mind. She has a wander lust like her mother and feels more at home when she is traveling.

Neither child is ever far from home, not with the phones we have today and they call or text whenever they feel lost or alone.

Their mother is an amazing person. She is filled with passion and wit. Her sense of humor is dry and quick. She tends her flowers and manages the accounts; she falls asleep to some forgotten 1970’s tv show she stumbles across.

This man stands silently in doorways and watches her as she busies herself and wonders how he ever managed to convince someone who is so obviously superior to him to spend her live with him.

In winter she sets beside a great window and sips hot chocolate as their dogs lay at her feet. In autumn they go for drives in the country taking photos and enjoying the spender of an Indiana fall.

At night he runs his finger through her hair as she sleeps and still he marvels at the greatness of his wife and joy they seem to find just being in the same room together.

In the mornings, every Sunday he wakes up early and makes her biscuits and gravy and sets at her feet as she has breakfast in bed. Realizing that until the day they die, he is her slave.

It’s a life that I hold dear to me in my sleep, a family that she allowed me to have, in a place that only exists in my soul. It’s a bitter thing that I am forced to wake up every day teetering on the edge of losing everything I have and not really caring if I do.

The world has no place for me anymore. I no longer have a purpose. No longer are there any goals or services to perform. I linger. Always on the verge of a complete and utter breakdown.

I wander. Like a lost dog looking for someone to take pity on me and bring me to a place where I can be of service again. To belong to something wonderful once more.

My only ambition is to go to sleep and see what dreams may come….