Did you ever lack the words for a feeling? Did ever lack the picture for words? Did you ever lack the tears for that heart ache? Or the exhaustion to sleep? The cushion to suffocate yourself in? The breath to cry? Did you ever lack the stamina to eh.. endure? Or just felt full of lack? James has been spooning with us for a while now and he loved it. He also sometimes also felt that we squeezed a little bit too hard, and he knew that that wasn’t out of love. We lacked something, he knew. So right before the change of the year he declared it time to relax, to unwind, to simmer down, settle back, take ten (or eleven), loosen up (or down) and be calm. “You need to start expressing yourself, Potamotrygorgeous. And not just in sheep, not just in words.”
“Give me your hand, Pota,” James said.
“You know.. you are not alone in this, right?” James said. “I am in this with you, you know that, right?”
“We have been together for so long, that I can’t remember who is the better influence here,” James said. He stole this line from a book, we knew, and we hoped that he would be more genuine later on in the story.
“I will,” James said. “Because I am you, and you are me, you don’t need to tell me anything out loud. I dream your hopes. I live out your fantasies. I talk you wishes. I feel your pain. But I also feel you lack something. And I can not live this one for you, you have to do that one for yourself. I can show you how to, though.”
“I know that although you don’t have favorites, I am your most precious sheep, and that is leaves you without words many times. Between you and me there is no need to define what we have, <we can use brackets for what we have> and live between whatever is inserted, for we know what we have, and nobody can come between that.”
“Your tattoo will always remind you of who you are, where you belong, that will never fade, even the memory will sometimes be less visible than other times. Let this be an ink-formed post-it to remind you where you come from.”
“It seems as if I am letting you go,” James said. “Be assured, I am not. I can not. I will not.”
“I had to learn to talk too, Pota,” James said. “I had to learn to keep shut. I had to learn to discern. And yes.. I nicknamed you, for I think the time is come that you should be the sheep for a while, in search for your herder.”
“Being a sheep is one of the best things that I could have wished for becoming in life,” James said. And I want to show you what you lack. Because this is a void that I can’t fill for you, only your herder can do that.”
“Remember when you were born? When you were so utterly relaxed that you could fall asleep anywhere? When you were so comfortable around just any human being? When you truly felt fed by food? When you didn’t worry about things you had no control over? When you were fine just growing?”
“Remember that birth-time? That was an ultimate carelessness. Remember, Pota?”
“You have that in you, for the body remembers and carries everything of your whole life in you. You know this. Everything you ever saw, felt, wanted, experiences, dreamt, went to, walked away from, read, heard, everything became these memory molecules which built you.”
“So deep down you know, please remember, that when you were born you were born careless. Without worry. You can have that again. But this time it is a choice. And it’s up to you to do that, to have that second birth. I can only show you the sign.”
“I think you got it.. Potamotrygorgeous. Yep. Keep it up.”
“I promise you that 2017 will be great. Think of me from time to time, when you’re living it.”