the point of the point

deeper thoughts than expected tonight. no idea why. timing, i suppose. reading material of late as well, most likely.

snippet of a story read tonight, relevance without revelation how or why… a man and a woman fall in love. they are, by life and commitment, dedicated to the world, to others, to anything and everything except themselves.

they spend time together. they make reasons to spend time together. when their time is passing, upon the last night, they leave one another’s presence early. the man lays in his bed, unable to sleep, and knows without knowing how he knows that she is doing the same.

he thinks to himself that were he to request her presence, she would say ‘yes’. he wrestles with this desire there, in the quiet, dark room. he realizes that she is cocooned by perfect love, and willing to remain so or not based entirely upon his need. she will give if he asks it, she will refrain if he does not. known.

as he lays there, he contemplates their lives and how their sharing could not be possible were such as selfish need imposed. he contemplates as well that to be drawn to chasing the attractor is to set in motion the things that bring about ending.

he realizes that all things end, but many end prematurely thanks to the selfish grasping of humans after the illusion that they can ever be anything more than impermanent.

he realizes that, in many ways, he has the choice before him to love her eternally as she is, without boundary or possession… or to indulge his desire, his need, and love her briefly and lose her quickly… and wonder how it might have been but for the need, the greed.

he pens a poem and tells himself that, in this moment, he is able to be something more precious than a lover… he is able to be a protector. protecting her from himself and the manner in which his choices would inevitably change both their lives and ultimately spoil the beauty and sharing that is and could be savored their entire lives.

he names himself her guardian and protector, and turns from her so she might be as free and beautiful as she is… and also so as to be certain that he is never responsible for a change that would make her otherwise.

i read it and i cried. for reasons i will not go into here except to say the nature of the attractor and endings as well as the truth of impermanence and how selfishness is always willing to justify itself is seen and examples from life are poignant.

i understand it in this moment better than i did. better than i wanted to, really.

the point of the point is found much too late and i am sorry for it. i am sorry you could not feel safe enough to tell me and i am sorry i could not manage to be someone who could listen.

i suppose it is something to be thankful for that eventually, all things are heard. i sit here and hope you hear them, too. surf upon white shores, peaceful and serene. unending understanding and the softly moaning breeze. i have decided that the wind knows the definition of suadade and likely moans for being unable to tell us, or perhaps for trying to and failing.

i wrote not too long ago that hindsight is like scanning — successive passes over memory. i think the thing that hurts the most is seeing your mistakes and seeing how impossible it was to do anything other than make them.

heavy stuff. but i am not sad. hard to explain. i am not going to try.

i do wish it were possible to communicate the fullness of regret. words are lacking but they are all i have.

i am sorry for that, too.

most of all, i just wanted to say that i understand. finally. and i thank you. sincerely.

as always, thank you for being you.

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