Thinking about kiddos

So, my eternal bachelor, my man to meet me on the steps outside the Moscow Opera House on a snowy winter night, the man I wanted to climb Kilamanjaro with- has 2 kids now. Is married. Is happy.Strange how tides turn, wash us about in a sea- and world travelling becomes planting gardens.I keep staring at the future, iPod in one hand and a ring in the other, and contemplate what will play next. I am laiden down with strips of white. I wash my feet in the river and dance on. I am blessed.I spent some hours online last night, talking with an ex-lover who wants to hold that title again and more. I am not the person I was. He wants to rewind, he wants to stare down the bottle, he wants to flip pages and click through the images of life- and I look on to gardens.Mirrors show grey. Nails of gold go brittle, break, start anew. Eyes sag, bag, and then I dance on and dream new impossiblilities to live. To do three a day before breakfast. Mine today were to pay bills, book Boston, and get enough work for this month to not sweat about airfares and doctors. We'll see if some impossible morning I can finagle new health insurance.My eternal bachelor, my man of the blue sun dress, my purple eye, my honeyed pigeon, my Mahler, my Operatic Mormon echo... has 2 kids now. Is married. Is happy.I miss him dearly.