I can see what's coming, but I'm not saying it...
Love is ephemeral.
Not the real love, the coexistence until you both, like Lil' Wayne's old money, grow white hair; not the last forever like a diamond kind.
I'm talking about the love for comfort's sake - the kind you whisper into a lover's ear to make her feel safe, ample, better, and, well, loved. The kind that, when removed, when taken away, when snatched from your grip can, ten or so beers deep, make you want it more than anything in the world, even if she was unstable or cheated on you or made you feel guilty about your feelings. The urge to alternately sob and steal it back, it comes out when friends don't talk to you on the phone for an arbitrary reason; when the relief that the date of UF admissions won't overshadow your birthday for the second year in a row, for want of attention, overwhelms like nothing else; when you realize that the infinitesimal chance that your best friend might be visiting you over spring break is the only thing you have going for you; when even the simple act of a "hot sophomore" contacting you through a social networking site makes your entire week. It comes out at the most inopportune time, and manifests itself in wall posts never received, text messages never delivered.
It comes out at 4 am.
Not the real love, the coexistence until you both, like Lil' Wayne's old money, grow white hair; not the last forever like a diamond kind.
I'm talking about the love for comfort's sake - the kind you whisper into a lover's ear to make her feel safe, ample, better, and, well, loved. The kind that, when removed, when taken away, when snatched from your grip can, ten or so beers deep, make you want it more than anything in the world, even if she was unstable or cheated on you or made you feel guilty about your feelings. The urge to alternately sob and steal it back, it comes out when friends don't talk to you on the phone for an arbitrary reason; when the relief that the date of UF admissions won't overshadow your birthday for the second year in a row, for want of attention, overwhelms like nothing else; when you realize that the infinitesimal chance that your best friend might be visiting you over spring break is the only thing you have going for you; when even the simple act of a "hot sophomore" contacting you through a social networking site makes your entire week. It comes out at the most inopportune time, and manifests itself in wall posts never received, text messages never delivered.
It comes out at 4 am.