Weeks in The First Life

105 weeks... A fire pit, it's early morning, some time in what must have been March or April. The coals are dying out, the logs are ashy, an old love confessed all he had faced and learned over our time apart. We drove home, I stared at the bright pink sun on the horizon, he stared at me.

100 weeks... Me by a fire, smiling, and only my face can be seen, illuminated by firelight and surrounded by darkness. I look happy. My love then, and I, were one again. An old friend was in town, we stayed up too late, watched fires burn until the sun came up.

95 weeks. Its rainy. I look sad. Sitting, sihouetted by a church. He says "God you're gorgeous...I miss you". He was states and hours and months away. I could never be so light when he was gone.

93 weeks. A slur of images, filled with mountains and bright eyes. Rooms with friends and just his eyes set on mine. He looked at me with more passion then than I could ever remember seeing in anyone. He talked about forever and the future. Everyone said we were too good together.

92 weeks. He's on stage. This picture made him happy He and his guitar. The mistress to the madness that always seemed to keep bridges between us. He looked happy. I probably felt sad.

86 weeks. Halloween. Parts of costumes strung about the floor. Still easy times before the cold set in

56 weeks.. I'm alone in these pictures. I'm smiling, but the captions say something else..

55 weeks.. Virginia Beach The ocean reaches out unto the sky. I can feel a sense of peace. This was where I would run to. Try to forget. Try to escape.

51 weeks.. A boquet of flowers. Pink and white carnations.
The first time anyone had given me flowers. I called him "the boy that is golden". His eyes were so crisp and honey-like. His features mimicked that of nature. Earthy tones. He was new, and I thought he was too beautiful for me. Board games and wine. It all happened so fast. I remember the picture in which I almost slipped up.

50 weeks.. Derby. Men lined up in formation to play a game I could barely grasp. But it made my heart beat fast. There was a boy there...he stood out. I watched and adored from afar.

49 weeks.. Gem city card. I was ready to start something new.

46 weeks... My first pair of skates. Right out of the box. Brand new...blue...

19 weeks... A jersey with the name Heartless Glitch on it. Excitement. Nervousness.

13 weeks.. Early morning breakfast. Balanced and made with care. I feel light and loved...

6 weeks.. A video of mens derby. And there's the boy I adored from afar at week 50. My heart races for them to win. I yell his name. Cheer him on. He waves at me from the other end

3 days... A written note placed on a kitchen table. An "I love you" written at the bottom, and food left for my trip.

I look at these pictures..marked by the weeks that they've grown old. A week is such a short period of time. It's funny to mark a timeline by weeks and see how things have changed between them. And as time went on, and as I became happier, fewer and fewer pictures could be found. I feel now, a sense of calm happiness. Without worry. And with a sense of faith that isn't panicky. I feel a love that is warm, comfortable, stable. But I always feel the need to write out the past. As I do, on a daily basis. As if I need to purge myself of everything that was. Every time we love, we love a little differently. We love different people. We find ourselves accepting of new things, intolerant of others, and more self sure and aware. He believes in things I don't, but we don't talk about it
He's spiritual, a little religious, and I am far from. I never have felt the need to believe in any one thing, or to seek answers for all the craziness that is life. I don't pray, I believe in vibes and energies, in mentality shaping our lives more than we think, and he turns to a higher power..but he was raised that way. And that's all fine. We're very very different, but in all the ways that have helped me to become more accepting. Calmer. Less brutal. More likely to give the benefit of the doubt.
He shows me nothing but love and care at all times. Which has made me a much better person. Who I am now is almost nothing like who I was 105 weeks ago.