Real Love Story in an Old Journal

I know how love is supposed to have been,
But my love didn’t turn out that way.
I have a stack of letters, tied with green
And every letter came from Italy.
A fall afternoon on a chaparral
hill became a lifetime’s love story.
Moon rise, while twilight held the day in thrall.
The lovers’ hearts remained a mystery
in that eternal moment. Letters filled 
These six thousand miles and thirty years.
Journeys, losses, loves; time does not stand still. 
Their two hearts hid predicaments and fears,
Written here, in my handwriting. Turning
pages, I read bewilderment — and yearning. 

I’m sorry. I got so wrapped up in this I forgot to use the word of the day, clink. Too bad, too, it’s pretty easy word to rhyme.

This is another Shakespearean sonnet (sort of) but it’s actually (OMG!) about love. I’ve been cleaning out and shredding journals and journal pages, but I found one yesterday I will not touch. For the most part, my journals are full of really dumb stuff. They aren’t “my past,” so much as me attempting to contend with some trivial problem in a former present. They are really mind-boggling examples of stream of tedium. As for my past, I’m its product, the fruit of it. I have kept things that I really do not want to part with — but it’s amazing after going through 7 of the 27 volumes of The Examined Life, the pile is pretty small. The question I ask as I work is, “How often have I needed to see this?” And most of the time the answer is, “I never need to see this.” ❤

17 thoughts on “Real Love Story in an Old Journal

  1. Poof! How time moves by so quickly, but yet as if it was yesterday when revisiting the realm of has been and could have been!

  2. I really liked this post. Beautiful poem. “Stream of tedium” – what an apt way to describe those angst filled (in my case anyway) journals kept long ago. Nope. No need to revisit those. I save calendars too. It is amazing to me what I had the energy to do all those years ago. 🙂 I can almost hear the clink of glasses from the get-togethers we used to have with friends.

    • Thank you! I’ve been through ten journals so far — some small and incomplete ones but mostly the behemoths. It’s incredible the stream of (often embarrassing) tedium. I’ve kept what I want to keep and it’s a surprisingly small pile. BUT the journal pictured in this post will remain intact. It had a focus and a purpose and it’s beautiful in an of itself ❤

        • The job has turned out to be kind of fun and I see progress, so, right now that’s pretty good motivation. My journal from fall 2001 is also a keeper with some serious purgations. 😀

  3. I can imagine the cringe factor of reading through some of the “stream of tedium” entries and perhaps whole volumes. Glad to hear that some of them are keepers. My mother’s journals were very interesting and I want to see if there are any other volumes she squirreled away. It was in places painful to read about her struggle with weight and then in others places her sense of humor made me roar with laughter.

    • I did LOTS of cringing today. The saddest little journal I ever read belonged to the lady who lived across the street from me in San Diego. She wrote down her adventures. “Went to the new Vons (Safeway) in La Mesa. Very nice store.”

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