The Windows of My Soul: I Am You and You Are Me (#216)

I Am You and You Are Me (#216)
© Brenda
October 17, 1984 11:40 am

Because I am you
I feel your pain, your humility
I see with your eyes
Hear with your ears
And walk through life by your side.

Because you are me
I can share with you
The far-flung joy of my life.
I can give to you
My sparkle of love
As we walk through life
You and I.


I have no idea if anyone is following along… or even cares. 😉

Brenda and I first met in Spring, 1984. I do not remember the first time we met. I must have been distracted or something. A mutual friend introduced me to her and her family. I was in college, working at a restaurant, and spending most of my free time playing RPG and board games. Just before my 20th birthday, I went with my parents to the beach for what would be the last time in many years. During that vacation, I “fell in love” for the first time. We never got past first base, but the relationship opened my eyes and allowed me to believe that I was worthy of having a relationship. Up until that point, all my attempts to find dates failed for numerous reasons.

After returning from the beach and trading letters with the girl a few weeks, the glow began to fade. During this time, my friendship with Brenda increased. I arranged to start a group playing a specific role-playing game and invited her youngest daughter (16 at the time) to join us. We played one session but the group never met again. However, Brenda encouraged her daughter to date me, which we did for just two weeks. Simply put, we weren’t meant for each other. She spent her time longing for another boy, and when I came to visit, I spent more time with Brenda than with her.

Brenda saw our building relationship long before I did. She, however, knew better than to push things – her being 24 years older than me and all. (The last two poems are clear examples of what she was going through during this time, emotionally.) By the end of September, the daughter and I agreed to move on as friends.

Around the time this poem was written, I was spending most of my time at Brenda’s house. I was still working at a restaurant, still going to school, and technically living at home with my parents. My relations with my parents was stressful and tenuous – I was 20 and less and less willing to live under their rules. Brenda invited me to come live with them in her house, which I did a couple weeks later. This was the start of an epic roller-coaster ride for both of us.

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