Nothing to say; it’s still okay

I did it last year too.

Today was my half birthday. 42 1/2 years old. Halfway to 85.

I feel okay. Not sad like I was one year ago today. Still want the same things, still no closer to having them… well, I suppose I am one year closer to having them. Huhnh! Weird.

This year I began writing odes to people on their birthdays. It is not my birthday, and I am not writing myself an ode. Instead, I shall share some poetry.

Joe and I have written each other poems via text since a few weeks into our relationship. He started it, but I am the absolute guilty party for keeping it going. We write mostly haikus. (Long story. Maybe next year.) All of this, (and I am just this second figuring this out) is what inspired me to write my first birthday ode which was, in fact, to Joe. (I called him and read it to him over the phone in my very cartooniest voice. He is a patient man, Joe is.)

Anyway, Joe focuses a lot on my health and healing. He often sends me healing energy. For all the crap that’s always wrong. Other times he will just put me to bed… virtually or via phone call, tuck me in (I’m an awful sleeper). We certainly don’t do this every night, or as often as we used to (before chapter 2) but still, it’s done.

The other night he sends me a lovely text wishing me a great night’s sleep full of healing and the like. Not long after that, I was in bed, feeling so wonderful and the sleep-world wooing me and I was certain that his wishes were already coming true.

I sent the following haiku:

Sleep calls me over, curling warm like a kitten, sandman strokes my eyes.

I proceeded to have the worst night’s sleep ever.

Last night we spoke and I told him about what an awful night’s sleep I’d gotten. I said we were putting a moratorium on the haikus.

And so later I send him this:

In order to get healing sleep,
I’ll count up some Reiki-trained sheep.
As I’ve sworn off haiku-in’,
This lim’rick’s a shoe-in,
To bring on a slumber that’s deep.

I crack me up. I believe I crack Joe up too.