Last night I started working on something about November. It came to me as I was drifting off the night before and the words wove themselves into something beautiful. As I began to write I became tangled in the words and they unraveled from the splendor they had been on that previous night.
There was a part about the first hint of winter and of a heart so long hidden away. There was another part about the awakening of that heart and words that began to flow from some secret place, words found for the first time. These were not just words about matters of the heart, but words about everything.
Then there was the part about your life and mine, separate lives in this world, but lives that share a powerful connection. I wanted to go through this part and say, somehow, this is enough, if it is all there is to be. I only wish that I could say why. Deep in my heart I have the words.
One day perhaps I will be able to tell you how it all began on autumn day out on a trail. You have, for reasons I may never understand, walked with me through this time and I think you will always be with me. My deepest fear is not being apart from you, but I will not post it here, as it is for you alone to hear.
It may be that one day I will put all of these things in a letter and send them off to you. Maybe it will be one day soon. Perhaps I will even finish the piece on November, poetic and one filled with rhyming verse, something I rarely write. Until then I will continue to post my thoughts of the moment, trying to give you small pieces of what I feel and who you are to me.
“Many Novembers have come and gone, but none so beautiful as one.” It’s a beginning.