(no subject)
I remember one of the last days in Chamonix. Warm yet cloudy, and a forest nestled between mountaintops with a small creek running through it. While I strolled along a small path, picking wild strawberries and raspberries, crying, I was composing a letter in my head, wondering if I would ever see the person it was addressed to again. It was a perfect morning, a perfect background for a breaking heart, and today I wish I could return there.
I've cried many times since, but only grown more and more fond of him. His eccentric ways, his voice and deep blue eyes, the way his hair always smells so nice...
Then why the blurred sight?
I'm in love with him, I could tell that just by the way my whole chest is aching right now. And I guess that's part of the problem. I wish I was someone special to him. Not in the way your dog Sparky and old grandma are to you, special as in the person he wakes up thinking about, the one who sends jolts through him when she enters the room, the one he can't seem to keep his hands or thoughts off.
Don't get me wrong here, I have absolutely no need of being the only woman in his life. I've come to realize however that I want to be an important woman in his life. Right now I'm... around, and while that would be nice if I cared less about him right now it's not enough.
So instead of wondering if I've sent too many messages this week, if I'll have a place to stay the night, if I've been too pushy asking if we can meet again and why he kisses me like he's been ordered to... I guess I just won't anymore.
I remember a balcony, the rush of the river below and bottle of whisky. I remember a walnut tree by the old fort in Marseille. Sake in the back of a bus. Chai latte as the night gave way to day. Being pulled down into his lap. Walking him home. Finding out exactly how incompatible we were. The way he looked at me that one time.
Wish I could gather more moments.
I've cried many times since, but only grown more and more fond of him. His eccentric ways, his voice and deep blue eyes, the way his hair always smells so nice...
Then why the blurred sight?
I'm in love with him, I could tell that just by the way my whole chest is aching right now. And I guess that's part of the problem. I wish I was someone special to him. Not in the way your dog Sparky and old grandma are to you, special as in the person he wakes up thinking about, the one who sends jolts through him when she enters the room, the one he can't seem to keep his hands or thoughts off.
Don't get me wrong here, I have absolutely no need of being the only woman in his life. I've come to realize however that I want to be an important woman in his life. Right now I'm... around, and while that would be nice if I cared less about him right now it's not enough.
So instead of wondering if I've sent too many messages this week, if I'll have a place to stay the night, if I've been too pushy asking if we can meet again and why he kisses me like he's been ordered to... I guess I just won't anymore.
I remember a balcony, the rush of the river below and bottle of whisky. I remember a walnut tree by the old fort in Marseille. Sake in the back of a bus. Chai latte as the night gave way to day. Being pulled down into his lap. Walking him home. Finding out exactly how incompatible we were. The way he looked at me that one time.
Wish I could gather more moments.