windblown thoughts

My thoughts chase each other in every direction. Whirling and loop-dy-loop-ing around themselves in no discernable pattern, like a paper bag blown in the wind.

I think of him (smiling) and the where and the when of which he reminds me.

I think of then. Often these thoughts also make me smile and then stop, puzzled at this nostalgia that seems so out of place.

I think of her and wonder how the distance can seem so great - as though she is caught in a great current and being carried out to sea. I feel small in her world now, as though the illusion created by this distance has translated into fact.

Funny. I thought the boat was bigger.

And as always, I think of you; wondering once again how something I expected with every fibre of my being could still surprise and disappoint me so tangibly.

And yet... overriding all of these thoughts is a strange contentment I can not explain or describe. As though I've finished a puzzle that had elluded me for some time. This umbrella of contentment somehow shields me from the blustering melancholy of some of my thought trains and so I simply puzzle over being lead in so many directions at once.