Be Here Now

Be here now. I heard these words this morning. Be here now. And I thought of you.

I thought of how you challenged me. Over and over and over again. How you asked me to be present. To be here now. With you.

I thought about walking with you in the creek - at who knows what time in the morning. Of how you played and laughed and danced like a child. And how I played, too. For a moment. And then, well, I went away. To the next place - to it’s time to leave. I went to the next hour while you were standing there, playing and laughing and inviting me into your life.

I thought about how the very next morning, we were together and talking and laughing. And how you called me out - told me you could sense my energy. That I was moving ahead, going to what was next. That ALL you wanted was me - for ME to be present. You wanted me to be here now. With you.

I thought about how I said the words - how I told you over and over and over that I wanted you. Yet, when I had you there - in the creek or in your house or in the car - I was already worried about not having you. I was too focused on what might happen or what couldn’t be that I didn’t enjoy what was.

I’m here. Now. But not with you. Because I couldn’t be there then. Because you asked me in a million different ways to just be. To just be with you.

And I kept saying YES and my energy and my actions kept saying no.

I sat in your kitchen and looked at your ceiling and made some comment about finally being present and you called me out on my bullshit. You told me I hadn’t been there all day and that one or two minutes was simply not acceptable. You told me you wanted me.

On the last day I saw you - I told you I cared about you. That I needed to work on me. I told you I was sorry. Sorry that I had been there, but then left. That when we first met, I was present - was there with you. Circumstances led us apart. And when you came back - when you sought me out and found me again. Well, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t able to be there.

I did the work. It was (and is) difficult. It hurts sometimes. But, I’m happier. I’m present in the moments of my life. I’m engaged with the people I see. But I’m not with you.

When I think about it, I know it must hurt. The way I was (and wasn’t) with you - it hurts me. I know that in any moments of clarity you may have about us, you see what I was doing.

I would say I’m sorry. But, the best apology I can give is to be here. Now.

I can be, you know. Here with you. Right now.

I understand, too, if my choices then mean you don’t want to anymore. No one who saw what I did would expect you to want to be in my presence.

But maybe. Maybe just once, you’ll give me a chance to be there. With you. Now.

I want to be here now. With you. For now and the next now and the one after that.

But what I want is right now. And for as many right nows as we both desire.

And yes, I know I can SAY those words. The only way for you to know is to see.

Do you want to see, I wonder? Do you ever wonder?

Because I wonder and I ache and I know what might have been had I been there.

You asked me over and over and over. I’m asking you today. Will you be here now?