I painted a picture for K this afternoon.
We were both lying in bed talking about dreams, the kind you hope will come true.
She on her king-sized bed with the love of our lives at her feet, me on my queen-sized bed with my iPod next to me.
A hundred and eighty kilometres apart but connected, as always.
Tell me what you really want, she asked.
What's the point? It's not going to happen. Ever.
No but what if it does happen, then how would you like it to be?
Hmmm... this is how I see it. The two of us and a dog, we're living somewhere up in the hills in a quiet little house. Nobody around for miles, the house doesn't have a fence around it. Just green and blue and yellow and russet hues all around us.
And...?
And we go fishing and ride bikes and...
But you don't know how to ride a bike...
So? He can teach me.
Ok. Then what? This sounds boring...
Nothing we just live like that. He can garden and paint and play his guitar and sing and I can write and bake and look at him all I want. Make up for the decades of separation.
He's an asshole. Why did he back out back then?
He didn't back out. He just didn't take a step forward and neither did I. We weren't sure about anything except the way we felt. You can't build a life on feelings...
But why do you want such a boring life with him now? What did you guys do back then?
Hmmm... let me see. There were a lot of stolen glances and goose bumps and coded messages and moonlit walks and dry blades of grass between book pages and star gazing and absorbing silences and sighing... yes, there was a lot of sighing!
Idiots! But now, is that really the life you want with him? What about kids?
Of course. Want them too. Want it all. With him.
Ok, so here's what we'll do...
What?
The next time he comes to town, we'll kidnap him.
Whaaat?
Shut up and start looking for that boring house of yours in the hills. Leave the rest to me.
With friends like these, who needs chocolate?
We were both lying in bed talking about dreams, the kind you hope will come true.
She on her king-sized bed with the love of our lives at her feet, me on my queen-sized bed with my iPod next to me.
A hundred and eighty kilometres apart but connected, as always.
Tell me what you really want, she asked.
What's the point? It's not going to happen. Ever.
No but what if it does happen, then how would you like it to be?
Hmmm... this is how I see it. The two of us and a dog, we're living somewhere up in the hills in a quiet little house. Nobody around for miles, the house doesn't have a fence around it. Just green and blue and yellow and russet hues all around us.
And...?
And we go fishing and ride bikes and...
But you don't know how to ride a bike...
So? He can teach me.
Ok. Then what? This sounds boring...
Nothing we just live like that. He can garden and paint and play his guitar and sing and I can write and bake and look at him all I want. Make up for the decades of separation.
He's an asshole. Why did he back out back then?
He didn't back out. He just didn't take a step forward and neither did I. We weren't sure about anything except the way we felt. You can't build a life on feelings...
But why do you want such a boring life with him now? What did you guys do back then?
Hmmm... let me see. There were a lot of stolen glances and goose bumps and coded messages and moonlit walks and dry blades of grass between book pages and star gazing and absorbing silences and sighing... yes, there was a lot of sighing!
Idiots! But now, is that really the life you want with him? What about kids?
Of course. Want them too. Want it all. With him.
Ok, so here's what we'll do...
What?
The next time he comes to town, we'll kidnap him.
Whaaat?
Shut up and start looking for that boring house of yours in the hills. Leave the rest to me.
With friends like these, who needs chocolate?
3 comments:
Do you know the song 'The folks who live on the hill.'
The Folks Who Live on the Hill
(words: Oscar Hammerstein II music: Jerome Kern)
(c)1937 by T.B. Harms Company
Some day we'll build a home on a hilltop high, you and I,
Shiny and new, a cottage that two can fill.
And we'll be pleased to be called
"The folks who live on the hill."
Some day we may be adding a thing or two, a wing or two,
We will make changes as any family will,
But we will always be called
"The folks who live on the hill."
Our verandah will command a view of meadows green,
The sort of view that seems to want to be seen.
And when the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at that same old view,
Just we two, Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill,
The folks who like to be called
What they have always been called
"The folks who live on the hill."
We live on a hill but have balconies rather than verandahs:)
@Pat - I'd never heard the song until now! Thank you. Just listened to the Johnny Hartman version on Youtube and it's lovely. I'm drifting off again...
I've never heard that song but the words make me happy. Dreaming. I'd like to live in a big ol' house, a farm-like house in wide open space with lots of grass, trees, blue, blue sky and thick white clouds. Me and a special man. We'd write and play music and plant veggies and talk about everything.
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