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It hits you at 3:34 in the morning, when you feel that first breath of air fill your lungs; when you forget where you are for an instant and you can feel the contentment wash over you because everything is right in the world.
And then you feel it. And in that brief moment between dream and reality, a flittering, dim, two second long clip plays across the back screen of your eyelids. You can see a glimpse of how bright the stars looked that night as you walked to the back of the parking lot together. And you glanced at him and thought to yourself that there was nowhere else that you'd rather be than right where you were, because for the first time in years, everything was perfect.
And then, suddenly, you remember.
We had it- that thing that everyone looks for in a relationship. Where you walk in the door after a terrible day and they come up to you and kiss you on the forehead and suddenly everything is good again. Where you wake up thinking about them, and you go to sleep thinking about them, and for some reason that doesn't seem wrong or sad or pathetic. Where suddenly it just doesn't hurt anymore to face school, or your parents, or the threat of college, because you have them. And it knocked the wind out of me sometimes, because it was so shocking to realize that I had that. But it was real.
And it was there even under the bickering and the rubble. It was always there. It is unquestionably salvageable. Because in this world of bitter harshness, I believe that we could be extraordinary together rather than ordinary apart.
But I'm only one half of the puzzle, and I can't pick up all the pieces by myself.
And then you feel it. And in that brief moment between dream and reality, a flittering, dim, two second long clip plays across the back screen of your eyelids. You can see a glimpse of how bright the stars looked that night as you walked to the back of the parking lot together. And you glanced at him and thought to yourself that there was nowhere else that you'd rather be than right where you were, because for the first time in years, everything was perfect.
And then, suddenly, you remember.
We had it- that thing that everyone looks for in a relationship. Where you walk in the door after a terrible day and they come up to you and kiss you on the forehead and suddenly everything is good again. Where you wake up thinking about them, and you go to sleep thinking about them, and for some reason that doesn't seem wrong or sad or pathetic. Where suddenly it just doesn't hurt anymore to face school, or your parents, or the threat of college, because you have them. And it knocked the wind out of me sometimes, because it was so shocking to realize that I had that. But it was real.
And it was there even under the bickering and the rubble. It was always there. It is unquestionably salvageable. Because in this world of bitter harshness, I believe that we could be extraordinary together rather than ordinary apart.
But I'm only one half of the puzzle, and I can't pick up all the pieces by myself.