missing
Listening to Genesis by VNV Nation and I miss Mike so much I could weep. It's a rare thing to have a friend that inflitrates your soul. We needed each other at the same time. We needed not only the same path, but the shade of each other to get down it.
Somewhere we branched a bit. But that core remained -- I lose certainty as time passes.
We drove nowhere at 2 a.m. and again at 4 a.m. and some days I was miserable at work for lack of sleep. But coffee and long drives cured it all - and music, coffee and long drives and music - and talk, coffee and long drives, and music, and talk - and falling asleep listening to him play piano, and silence, and cigarettes, and silliness - and the rare balm of early spring - watching the sun come up over the hills in some town -we weren't really sure where - creeping through the fog at 2 a.m. and having not seen a headlight for an hour - and the garish, gorgeous, sinister sparkle of Motiva in the bitter winter.
Mike had a knack for orchestrating every drive perfectly, juggling his coffee, cigarette, the steering wheel, and CDs. How often, really, can you make your life have a sountrack? And he's away taking steps to big things. I haven't heard from him in ages. I know he feels our lives are so far apart - me in married grownup land, and he struggling for stability. I suppose we'll catch up eventually, I have at least a 5 year head start.
Loving Mike helped me to at least like myself - I liked me reflected off him, and I think he felt the same. It's a rare love between two genders that remains absolutely platonic - some kind of balm to a raw heart. And right now, with the air still cold but warming slightly - with this mood - with this music - I'd love to break out of here and drive with Mike.
Somewhere we branched a bit. But that core remained -- I lose certainty as time passes.
We drove nowhere at 2 a.m. and again at 4 a.m. and some days I was miserable at work for lack of sleep. But coffee and long drives cured it all - and music, coffee and long drives and music - and talk, coffee and long drives, and music, and talk - and falling asleep listening to him play piano, and silence, and cigarettes, and silliness - and the rare balm of early spring - watching the sun come up over the hills in some town -we weren't really sure where - creeping through the fog at 2 a.m. and having not seen a headlight for an hour - and the garish, gorgeous, sinister sparkle of Motiva in the bitter winter.
Mike had a knack for orchestrating every drive perfectly, juggling his coffee, cigarette, the steering wheel, and CDs. How often, really, can you make your life have a sountrack? And he's away taking steps to big things. I haven't heard from him in ages. I know he feels our lives are so far apart - me in married grownup land, and he struggling for stability. I suppose we'll catch up eventually, I have at least a 5 year head start.
Loving Mike helped me to at least like myself - I liked me reflected off him, and I think he felt the same. It's a rare love between two genders that remains absolutely platonic - some kind of balm to a raw heart. And right now, with the air still cold but warming slightly - with this mood - with this music - I'd love to break out of here and drive with Mike.
posted by Laura | 10:20 AM
2 Comments:
Laura, I have a Mike, too. Only he's Eric and he's about 1000 miles away and we haven't seen each other in close to 11 years. I miss him desperately. He was the reflection of myself, only masculine. We did the same things- driving around in my old beat up Nova, cigarettes and coffee forming that pungent aroma in the staleness of the old rotting car.
I'd give just about anything to have him close to me again. But life has taken us in different directions now. We still talk occasionally, although it's probably been close to a year now. And I still love him, always will.
In the very un-updated "Writings" section of my blog is a poem I wrote about him, but you've read it before. Nothing new.
I'm no Mike, but if I were there I'd take long rides with you and coffee and cd's. Call me a cheap substitute. :)
I also miss those midnight Jaunts with Mike. And I miss Mike desparately but try instead to think of how proud and happy I am because I don't want to jinx him by "missing" him too much.
Morgan might not know it or say it but I know that Morgan is missing him too.
I just hope he doesn't stay so far away for a long time.
We could always go driving sometime.
It wouldn't be the same but it would be fun. Between us we should have a good bit of "Mike" music... and we could throw in our own.
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