I had a dream a night or two ago. I was in something of a military establishment, and Angel and I were in love. I remember having a memory of Eamon, but thinking - no, knowing - that somehow my small affair with Angel wouldn't matter. Maybe, who k nows, in another world, or another dimension - I really did have an affair with Angel, and that 'memory' was my memory of life as it really is.
Even then, I had the feeling that what Angel and I had wasn't permanent. Every one of our secret meetings had a sense of - a sense of urgency - a feeling that I only actually saw in Angel's eyes once. I'm not in love with Angel, and I'm truly happy that he's found somebody in Melonie. I truly think he's found something of a perfect love. But - there was something - somethign that I think is imaginary - in that dream that my soul suddenly hungers for. Not that urgency, but... something else...
You see, I've come upon a theory, and I hope that later tonight when Eamon comes, and we look into each other's eyes, that I'll realize that my thilly theory was wrong. I think that there are two kinds of loves in your life. You either come upon a person, and fall in love, and devote yourself to them completely, and your thoughts are always, always, always of them, or... you meet someone, and you fall in love, and you devote yourself to them... but a piece of you stays away. A piece of you you keep to yourself forever, and the person you're with will never, ever touch it. Maybe that's the way to go. But, in every relationship, you're one or the other: the one with eyes closed, with limitless, unconditional devotion, or you the one with eyes wide open.
I wonder today, yesterday, tomorrow, everyday... whether Jeff Buckley ever fell in love. I feel almost cheap saying this, because I feel as if it's been said before, but when I hear some kind of music, it fills me, and my chest swells, and I feel closer to a higher plane. I feel as if that kind of music belongs into another world, and in find that music we get closer to that world. It's happened to me in Guitar class, I can't remember with which songs. Maybe Sarabande, or that Spanish one that Victor (a virtuoso of ours) played. Sometimes even my simple little Spanish Etuden. It's happened when Eamon plays me "Gypsy Rover," although he's not really playing it for me, just playing it... and it happens in church, when I listen to Mr. Donahue's allelujah, which is different from any other on this earth.
I also feel it, some days, when Eamon and I are particularly still, and I look into those eyes.... Girls, you may have girls with blue eyes, with green, with golden, but no eyes match my darling's.... They're brown, but at the bottom, there's this little pool of gold. In the little pool of gold, there's specks of black at the edges, but at the very bottom it's just pure gold. Near the top, the color is a clear brown. If you don't know what I mean, picture looking in a deep lake late at night... and there, the little specks are gold, and orange... my fingers are getting weak just to think of it. Anyway, when we're lying particularly still, and I look into those eyes, and I'm touching just a little part of him... his cheek.... his shoulder... or ankle.. I feel as... as if I'm not only touching, reaching that other world - but as if, for a fleeting second, I'm a part of it.
It is in those moments that I hope that Eamon and I are an exception to every rule. We're not.
Because... oh, I'm so flawed. I'm young, only 16, but even now I've resolved myself to a horrible (at least to me) truth: Nobody will ever love me with that enveloping completeness with which I love Eamon. And, if they do... I won't love them the same way. As I said before, it's one or the other, it's ying or it's yang. You can't eat your cake and have it too.
I heard there was a secret chord... that David played and it pleased the Lord... but you don't really care for music, do you?
...in a lifetime, you could tally up your losses aginst your gains, and sometimes you might find that you've got a negative amount of gains. But trust me, whatever the number is, you've done the math wrong. You've done the math wrong.
Praise Life, Praise God