CHAPTER 2 : Wind Chimes

Sent: 3/23/2002 5:18 PM

It's a windy, cold day in New York, today. I just returned from perpetual rain in Arkansas. Funny how the weather affects us so. I find myself wanting to lay in bed, down comforter around my chin, warmth soothing my aches, listening to the wind chimes I just installed outside my window. The melody of the chime is inconsistent, but beautiful. No, I'm not depressed. Isolation is not only the by-product of saddness. Isolation can be quite joyous. It is here, I find a different kind of peace.

The phone has called to me at many times during the day, but I left it unanswered. Only one left a message. Smile. And yet, I don't wonder at the others.

My hands are cold. There is a chill blowing through the room. Pieces of paper taped to my wall rise and fall in its wake. Crisply, it blows across my fingertips sitting still upon the keyboard. I wonder why I'm writing you now, and what I'm longing to say. So many feelings rush forth, and I find myself overwhelmed. Inundated, I become confused. What is this journal entry all about?

Perhaps it can just be my voice echoing across the internet canyon from a peaceful, secluded isolation. And, perhaps, faintly, you can hear the words from my heart. It crys for your happiness. I want you to be happy. My emotions, like the chimes played by the wind, sound from within me. I'm sad that you aren't happy. I'm happy but wishing you were here. I'm sorrowful for the pain you feel. I'm angry that you have so much fear.

It is my deep, unconditional love for you that allows you to be the wind through my heart today, playing my every emotion. And if for no other reason, at least be happy for the sweet music you make within me. Special.

Thank you for that.