Thursday, May 05, 2016

Lyrics To Love: I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues

Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever
Between you and me I could honestly say
That things can only get better

And while I'm away
Dust out the demons inside
And it won't be long before you and me run
To the place in our hearts where we hide

And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Time on my hands could be time spent with you
Laughing like children, living like lovers
Rolling like thunder under the covers
And I guess that's why they call it the blues

Just stare into space
Picture my face in your hands
Live for each second without hesitation
And never forget I'm your man

Wait on me girl
Cry in the night if it helps
But more than ever I simply love you
More than I love life itself

I remember listening to this song on Lite FM in the late night, letting it put me to sleep, tears streaming down my face for whatever teen-angst I was feeling that day. Elton will never know how much he helped me stay on this side of sanity.

*smooches...just for Elton and our bluesy-blues*
I'd totally ROCK that song at karaoke, and I loathe karaoke!

Monday, April 25, 2016

Sweet Distractions Tastes Like "Lemonade"

Ahhhh, Beyonce. You'll never know how much I needed something else to focus on this week.

Her latest studio album is the official 2005-2006 Jaded Anthem Soundtrack. If I could re-divorce my ex I would, and play this album while signing my papers because YASSSSSS I AIN'T THINKIN' 'BOUT YOU (from "Sorry")

If you haven't listened, give it a shot. It's fun, it's danceable, it opens a few wounds, it heals the hurt a little bit. She did that.


Now please excuse me while I break up with all of the mens I'm not even dating, just because.

*smooches...but I still ain't sorry*
y'all. when a woman's fed up... TELL HIM 'BOY BYE'

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Thank You For A Funky Time

Rest in peace, Prince. 

I've loved you for most of my life. I hope you knew it or felt it somehow. 

Your music made a difference in my life. 

Your art was everything. The way you approached your craft was inspiring. 

I wish I'd had a chance to meet you. 

You'll always be in my heart.

Love Always,

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long

Papi is dying.

And that is perhaps the hardest sentence I've ever had to write. But my Papi is dying and I'm here, again, in this place where nothing seems right and everything is unfair.

I have not become anything yet. He is leaving me before I can show him what I can become. He is leaving me before I can pay him back for giving me life. Before I can learn to be brave. Before I can learn responsibility. Before I can make it up to him and to Grandma, and I can't stop it. I have no power here.

I am still selfish. I want him here. I do not want to let him go. After him, there will be no other man that truly loves me, unconditionally. I am not ready to live in a world without him. Who am I, without him?

What happens to me on the day there is no one to respond to my pleas for bendiciones with, "Dios te bendiga, mi reina"? Do my blessings end?

I don't want him to hurt, to suffer, but I want him here. With me. So I can say, "I am here. I am yours. Don't leave me. Don't leave me."

Papi is dying and nothing seems right and everything is unfair.

I wish I'd known the last time was going to be the last time. I would have never let go.

...I would have never let go.

Monday, November 02, 2015

The Heartbreak Of A World Series Loss

Still devoted after
all these years & losses
Every year you tell yourself, "If they suck after July 25 then hang it up for the year and wait until April," but then July 25 comes and they're still kicking ass and taking names.

So you get a little hopeful. Then they clinch a spot after sweeping a hated rival and you think, WHOA, are we... will we...? Then you face and defeat a traitorous West Coast team (DEM BUMS!) and think, HOLY SHIT WE WON and it feels great.

And it keeps going on an amazing high you can't even believe exists. You haven't felt this in 15 goddamn years. It's going to be the most amazing climax of your life, you just know it. Your team sweeps the next opponent and you lose your shit. YOU'RE GOING TO THE BIG SHOW! THE TIDE IS TURNING!

You think, we must have gotten here, to this point, for a reason. WE'RE GONNA WIN! And then game after game, it all comes tumbling down when you realize the reason you made it was just so that the other team could win, and it hurts.

The hope, the devotion; you bleed blue and orange your entire life and to see it roll by Murphy's glove, soar over Familia head, slip away from Wright, it hurts. It's a physical pain that settles into the pit of your stomach. You know how hard it was to get here, how long it took to get here, and to leave without that trophy physically hurts. There's nothing left to do but accept defeat and let the tears come.

I wanted this for our Captain. I wanted to rub it in the faces of those who abandoned us (JOSE REYES). I wanted our rookies to have an Amazin' first year. I wanted to quit being the butt of NY Sports jokes. I wanted to wear my jersey to the parade. It was so close I could taste it. I saved a vacation day for it. And then... and then...

How to heal? I wish I knew. Up until the World Series, the Mets played really well. Our pitchers had killer arms and our outfielders kept going the extra (vertical) mile to block scores. Our bats could have done a better job, it's something to work on, but it was decent. So I can take some solace in the talent that exists and the power that can be developed (Conforto can be great if nurtured).

In the meantime, my jersey is in the laundry. I'll wash it and store it away with my out-of-season gear. I'll tuck my team drinking tumblers in the back of the cabinet. My cap will go back to being a decorative fixture on my bookshelf.

And then come April I'll dust it all off and get back on this ride and see where it takes me. Next week, when my tears have dried, I'll purchase my opening day tickets.


*smooches...trying hard not to break down at work*
this seriously feels like a death in the family