just a little is enough

she loves logistics more than me
she definitely loves logic more than me
she loves her boyfriend more than me
sometimes I think she loves potato chips more than me
but she loves me too
and that's just fine.

p.s. this was back during the happy times. now when my friends ask I tell them she died. it's easier this way

cheesy, cheesy, cheesy

I could love you more than I do. much, much more.
but then the Earth would not be able to carry the weight of my love.
Its orbit would be altered, causing changes to the velocity relationshio of all planets with potentially disastrous  results for our solar system.
I will not go into scientific details but let just say that all seas could dry up. koalas would walk from Australia all the way to England. they would take up smoking, going to pubs and drinking themselves to extinction due to liver failure.
illegal aliens from other planets would come to Earth and start working for free. the entire economic structure would crumble at once.
due to the realignment of the planets my voice would change. I would finally be able to sing beautiful songs for you.
I would find a portal to a parallel universe where Van Gogh is still alive. I would give him a photograph of you so he could draw you.
I would give you the painting and you would be so touched. You would start to like me a little.
that would be so wonderful but I think koalas are so adorable. almost as adorable as you.
I would not want to be responsible for their extinction so I will keep on loving you the way I do and hope it's enough.

click

 “In 1981 I happened to see Joe Strummer – he was the singer for the punk rock band The Clash – on the tube. I saw him sitting on the other side of the seat, but I thought he was too private – he might get too angry – but I was trying to be brave, I went up to him and asked him ‘may I take a picture of you.’ he smiled and said ‘yes’, and I clicked several shots. Just before he got off the train he said to me, ‘You should take photos of whatever you want. That’s punk.’ ” 

Herbie Yamaguchi

just me Sheldon-talkin' (about you)

your presence on the planet is sufficient proof of a superior force possesing a highly developed sense of aesthetic values, plus incredible creative talents.
meeting you is either a stroke of luck or some inscrutable karmic reward for virtuous deeds performed by me in the past. either way I am eternally grateful and deeply ecstatic. Love you, Mary Jane

p.s  maybe Sheldon wouldn't be so forthcoming with his feelings or usage of the L word but then again two years ago neither would I, neither would I.

history

I used to think falling in love was the racist behavior of a fool who thinks that one woman is better than all other women.

until I met Mary Jane.

I don't think she is better than all other women.

just smarter and more beautiful.

she also has the best sence of humor and is kind enough to laugh with my stupid jokes.

February 14 2013. the historic date that MJ confided over the phone that today she misses me a little.

"just a little is enough" was my joyous reply. it's the nicest thing she's ever said to me (apart from that other nicest thing she told me in the Fall of 2012. she made me swear we would never discuss it, thus we won't).

after our conversation was over as the fool I have become I kissed the phone that brought me her voice. the damn phone for cryin' out loud.

the guys that were on deck fixing a rusted bollard looked at me with disdain, or was it envy?

now I'm sitting in my cabin. as Elvis Costello sings "I'm not going to get too sentimental like those other sticky valentines" I write these words:

only three scientific facts I'm aware of

A. the earth is round. somewhat

B. laughter will keep you young. and healthy

C. love will take you higher.

love.

everyday.

as for today's celebration it is a fine excuse to share chocolate with someone who has taken you higher and that makes it ok.

loving you is an integral element of my personality and demeanor. you are an integral element of my personality and demeanor.

I open my eyes in the morning. your smiling face comes to mind.it's like opening a window and the sun is you.  I get overwhelmed with sensations of joy, love and enthousiasm for live.
joie de vivre , I think the French call it.
that's what you are to me.
I am aware how unrealistic my words sound. if you didn't know me you'd think I'm some creepy pervert* hitting on you.
but you do know me.
you know that my words sound extreme and unrealistic only because my feelings are extreme and unrealistic. please note that their hyperbolic status does not render their veracity null (neither the words nor the feelings).**
I remember your stupid theory that these feelings would deflate with the passage of time because they were only by-products of my then newborn lust.
even my lust wasn't genuine to you but a mere symptom of my middle age crisis.
I was insulted with how easy it was for you to disregard anything I had to say. 
I remember how easy it could have been to retort by calling you a young cynical bitch.***
I chose to swallow my pride (which believe it is the hardest thing a man has to do).
I know I'm not writing anything new, anything you don't already know. it's just that the moments that I think of you are so great in numbers and so immence in stature that I want to share them with you.
the life span of the feeelings, of the moments is a mystery that only time will solve.

allow me to love you with the passion of a madman until then, Mary Jane



*sometimes Ido feel like a creepy pervert when I'm around you but that's your fault because you are so damn sexy.
**maybe I have being watching too much "Big Bang Theory. I am starting to sound like Sheldon.
***I also remember with the greatest amount of nostalgia how sweet and innocent you loooked at the time (and young and bitchy)

Me arrodilla y estas feliz

I have no reasons to be optimistic.
I don't need reasons.
just a smile.
on your face.
your face is thousand miles away.
because it's attached to your head
which is attached to your body
which I love.
I know you don't like it when I talk like that
it makes you unconfortable
you've made it clear
that you are not in love with me
nor will you ever be.
I agreed for us  to be best friends for the simple reason
that I cannot live without you.
you are an addictobsession.
my addictobsession.
other men on the ship blow their money on gambling, on drugs
or they wait until we are on port and they blow it on women, gambling and drugs.
I stash all my money in a box.
my box of dream.
in which dream you take me up on my offer,
you throw some clothes in a suitcase, we buy a shiny car with a loud stereo
and we drive across America all the way to San Diego.
while we are on the ferry to Coronado island
you reach over and kiss me
"Should I stay or should I go" is playing on our loud stereo
you whisper in my ear "stay Charlie stay".
at that moment your eyes are shinier than our car
shinier than America
shinier than any sea
I reach over and kiss you.
that's what I live for.
I have no reasons to be in love.
I have no reasons to be optimistic.
I am.