(no subject)
I've always considered myself to be a live for the right now sort of bloke; no looking back, no worrying about tomorrow, just go for right now. I suppose it's that that gets me into trouble so often. It's a bit of a reckless way to lead a life, but it's always worked out for me, or until recently. About the middle of December things started spiraling out of my control and I spent most of my days picking apart all the yesterdays to see where I went wrong or looking ahead to all the tomorrows. Anything but todays. I couldn't find anything worth standing still for.
Then you came along-- or were there from the beginning, but the point is you came to take me away from all the cycles and suddenly there were no more yesterdays or tomorrows, only that far away last day that anytime you caught me getting near thinking about you would pull all my attention away and ground me back in the now of time. It's happening again now. I can't plan anything around you because I always get caught up in whatever we're doing and forget about whatever else I might have set up for us. Like last night, where what usually takes me a long hour to make was done in what seems like a blink and an exhaled breath. It wasn't just because you were helping either, though I'm sure it helped things go a little faster. No, it was more just enjoying every moment without that nagging "What next, what next?" that's been a resident of my inner dialogue as of late. And it just kept on like that - letting things happen however they did until finally all there was left to do was pull your spent form up from the floor and tuck us away under warm blankets and a fresh, salty breeze.
Then there are moments like this morning where I found myself awake before the sun had completely risen, watching the way your chest rose with each steady inhale, unable to do anything more than look forward to whenever you would wake so that I could go back to getting lost in your eyes and having time fall away. Or right now, sitting on the sand with a bit of a bite and a cool drink thinking on how soon I can manage to sneak away to get back to you.
It's all sort of like bungee jumping when you stop to think about it. You know there are real and serious risks; there's the hard tarmac waiting down there to catch you and let you break yourself apart on it's unforgiving surface, and you're scared as fuck, but when you just let go and step off that edge, you'd go through it all over and over just to keep feeling that freefall as long as you can. Never quite caring that the next time the cord just might break.
Then you came along-- or were there from the beginning, but the point is you came to take me away from all the cycles and suddenly there were no more yesterdays or tomorrows, only that far away last day that anytime you caught me getting near thinking about you would pull all my attention away and ground me back in the now of time. It's happening again now. I can't plan anything around you because I always get caught up in whatever we're doing and forget about whatever else I might have set up for us. Like last night, where what usually takes me a long hour to make was done in what seems like a blink and an exhaled breath. It wasn't just because you were helping either, though I'm sure it helped things go a little faster. No, it was more just enjoying every moment without that nagging "What next, what next?" that's been a resident of my inner dialogue as of late. And it just kept on like that - letting things happen however they did until finally all there was left to do was pull your spent form up from the floor and tuck us away under warm blankets and a fresh, salty breeze.
Then there are moments like this morning where I found myself awake before the sun had completely risen, watching the way your chest rose with each steady inhale, unable to do anything more than look forward to whenever you would wake so that I could go back to getting lost in your eyes and having time fall away. Or right now, sitting on the sand with a bit of a bite and a cool drink thinking on how soon I can manage to sneak away to get back to you.
It's all sort of like bungee jumping when you stop to think about it. You know there are real and serious risks; there's the hard tarmac waiting down there to catch you and let you break yourself apart on it's unforgiving surface, and you're scared as fuck, but when you just let go and step off that edge, you'd go through it all over and over just to keep feeling that freefall as long as you can. Never quite caring that the next time the cord just might break.