I found him

Mr. July had come into my life.

I met him at Calleta's Hobo Railroad Infohub. He didn't have to say a word. I was smitten.

I know he's a bonehead, but we have so much in common. We both live by the train tracks. We both waited forever for the train. I rarely wear shoes, and -- well, I haven't seen him wear clothes yet.

Besides that, he's very patient, he listens attentively, and he silently agrees with everything I say. He'll be there anytime I need him for as long as I need him. And he'll never be afflicted with the Vanishing Avatar Syndrome. I'll never be alone again.

And now, we have matching hobo top hats! To wear as we wait for the train together.

/me hums "Isn't it romantic?"


(More pics at http://wildopallei.fotki.com/friends/mrbones/.)

;D

/me prepares for the deluge of "bone" jokes in comments.

PS: That's my first short hair in SL. :)

Anyway

I haven't gone to many live events lately, but something prompted me to catch a few minutes of Starr Singer's show at the Lily Pad. I have seen Starr before and I love her voice.

But I wasn't feeling very comfortable around crowds today, and I was about to leave when she said she was about to sing a new song, so I figured I'd stay for one more.

It's funny how we hear or read something right when we need it. The song that Starr sang next was Martina McBride's "Anyway". And, in Howard's blog style, here it is:

[Edit: The original video can no longer be embedded so here's a live version below.]



It doesn't always turn out like I think it should, but I build, I script, I dream, I love... anyway.

Grieving non-loss

How could you lose something you never had? How could you grieve over something you never lost because you never had it in the first place?

After my divorce, I grieved for a lot of things I lost. The love we once had, his companionship, the moments we shared, the intimacy. But I realized that what I grieved more deeply about was the loss of our future, of the dreams we shared, of what could have been.

But when there is no possibility of a future with someone, -- not even a virtual future, -- when there are no dreams to look forward to, when all I have is each present moment, which instantly fades away, what is there to grieve for?

And yet my body shivers, my hands shake, my lips quiver, my tears fall. I grieve. But I don't know what for. Nothing changes after all. I didn't lose anything. I had nothing to lose.

(Yes, dear reader, two blogs in one day. Aren't you lucky! :) )

Heart gravel

Eight years ago, a man broke my heart into pieces. I tried to meld the pieces together, but, no matter how the rest of my world came together, my heart remained broken.

Finally, I offered my heart up to God, but He did not make it whole again. Instead, He took the pieces in His hand and crumbled them into even smaller pieces. Some pieces were the size of pebbles; some were as tiny as a dust particle. Then He placed the pile of heart gravel back in my hands.

"Your heart isn't meant for just one man," He said. "Your heart is meant for the world."

I looked closely at each particle of heart dust and I realized that each one of those pieces is a whole heart, complete in itself. And each tiny heart is meant for a different person in my life. Some get a larger heart; some get a smaller heart. But each one gets a whole heart.

The size of the heart did not indicate the size of my love nor the length of time I would love them; the size simply indicated the time they would be in my life. The largest pieces go to my family who remain with me my whole life. The tiniest heart dust particles go to strangers I smile at or briefly say hello to.

And when a large heart piece gets broken again, my tears turn each of the new pieces into whole hearts and I gain more hearts to give away to more people.

Thus, I give my love to the world. One little heart at a time.

/me picks out pearl-sized hearts from the pile.