(no subject)
Today is the day of brightly tied ribbons and blow dried hair and sore cheek bones. Today is the day that tears should be absent and smiles should be inevitable. It is a day that often creeps along and pops out from behind the kitchen counter that is smeared with vanilla icing. One that may also be awaited for what seems like multiple years for a young child.
Today is my birthday.
And today, tears were the ineveitable and the silence was unbreakable.
Nonetheless, it is my birthday.
I often find myself studying the creases in the quilt on my bed in attempts to create a sense of fantasy related beings. I've always wanted to see a real person in the creases. Instead I wait for the day when my right ear can rest on his chest and concentrate so hard on making my breath rise and fall with his that I exhaust myself to the point of sleep.
It's beautiful really. Knowing that anytime I wish I may press my body into his and let the tension seep through him and down out of the tips of my toes.
It's a precious thought. Having such a keen sense of where each freckle appears and when each scar begins. When the appropriate time is for my fingers to lightly trace his jaw line and continually answer his needs.
The day after tomorrow my environment changes drastically. From structured painting and bare knees to careful study and aching joints. Well, the joints will always ache. Along with the painful neck, and head, and heart, and muscles, and brain. Lord, I am a mess.
And yet,
I find that I have nothing more to say about that.
Today is my birthday.
And today, tears were the ineveitable and the silence was unbreakable.
Nonetheless, it is my birthday.
I often find myself studying the creases in the quilt on my bed in attempts to create a sense of fantasy related beings. I've always wanted to see a real person in the creases. Instead I wait for the day when my right ear can rest on his chest and concentrate so hard on making my breath rise and fall with his that I exhaust myself to the point of sleep.
It's beautiful really. Knowing that anytime I wish I may press my body into his and let the tension seep through him and down out of the tips of my toes.
It's a precious thought. Having such a keen sense of where each freckle appears and when each scar begins. When the appropriate time is for my fingers to lightly trace his jaw line and continually answer his needs.
The day after tomorrow my environment changes drastically. From structured painting and bare knees to careful study and aching joints. Well, the joints will always ache. Along with the painful neck, and head, and heart, and muscles, and brain. Lord, I am a mess.
And yet,
I find that I have nothing more to say about that.