My dearest,
You do understand this is poetry? The elaboration of my experiences to shape a new narrative.
Based on reality sure, but wholly made fiction by my own creative powers.
You call three weeks after us breaking up, so unassumingly, so casually.
You promised to use my kindness, of always being able to reach me, wisely. Yet you call for something so stupid, so small.
To give yourself peace of mind.
What about my peace of mind?
What about the fact that for the last three weeks my world came crashing down yet kept turning.
How I had to show up each meeting pretending everything is fine. Only to cry on the way there and on the way back. But not too hard because I wouldn't want my make-up to run.
What about the fact that I simply can not hear your voice without fantasizing about our future together and your lips on mine one last time and how badly I want specifically you to be the father of our six children.
One of my gifts from God is my imagination. The worlds I can conjure up in my mind are magnificent. Our future was vivid in my mind and it confused me, they were more real than any imagination I ever had. They were true visions of what is meant to happen.
How the last three weeks I have been grieving the whole kingdom we already build together and the six kids I had already birthed. The ones I already met peeking though the curtains of time and fast forwarding on our path together.
The oldest Constantine who truly is the rock the rest of the family can build upon. Who looks up to his father and is eager to step into his footsteps. "I wish he'd let himself be a kid as well" I tell you when he is tucked into bed. You smile, agreeing but I see that you can't help but be proud of his work ethic. I am as well, like father, like son.
Richard who in turn looks up to his brother and can't help but want to beat him in everything they do. He is competitive and has a wild streak. His older brother shows him the right way to behave and we know that if we send our boys out together they will get themselves into trouble but also get themselves out of it again no problem. A week later we will hear from the neighborhood what happened and have to pretend "Yes! Of course we knew! Yes! We gave them a stern talking to!" Before we go home and try to do exactly that only to be outsmarted by the two cheeky men we're raising.
Then our third, but first daughter, Anneliese. I know she should be named after my mother, but my mother always hated her name, and this is a mix of my two grandmothers, whom I think deserve the praise more. She's graceful, our princess, but not too spoiled (who am I kidding she is totally spoiled). She is grateful and kind, knows exactly how to play her older brothers to get exactly what she wants from them. She's playful and proceeds to trick all the manly men in the family to participate in her fairy tale tea parties.
David I reckon will be a bit more of a sensitive soul. With two older brothers to live up to his dad's legacy he doesn't feel the call as strongly. He will probably turn out to be a poet or something artistic, inspired by his mother. While the other boys are fighting for dad's approval in the hotels, he rather spends his time in the atelier with mom and Anneliese.
The last son will probably be called something like Nikos (because I bet you have an important family member with that name) or Charis (and then we won't tell him he is named after a stuffed animal). He's all smiles all the time, life just seems to come easy to him. If he wasn't the youngest son he would be the one taking over the whole empire, but he's content with his placement in the hierarchy and makes it work for him. Impossible intellect, where we sometimes have the issue of keeping up with him. We experience this with all of our children from time to time. They can't help but outshine us on different aspects of their life. They are born out of love after all.
And lastly but certainly not least, the last daughter, Katherina. The youngest of the bunch and definitely the most protected. She just has a pure soul, burdened by it sometimes, it hurts to see the world in such disarray when you could imagine it to be better. It motivates her to be the best she can be for the small world she has around her.
How many times can you tell a woman that you don't see her as wife material until she cuts her losses, picks herself up from her begging knees and moves on. How many times can a woman hear it until she starts to believe it. Maybe the reason why she feels so lonely all her life is because that is how she is meant to spend it. Alone.
Maybe these six children she dreams off were never meant to be hers. Maybe it is futile to fight for such a future. Luckily, she intimately knows grief, so she will grieve this too.
And all of that condensed to a "The bitcoin went up... Oh are you crying? I thought it would just be a quick call..."
Forever Yours,
Zoë
Creative Existence 