(no subject)
A quiet life of desperation. Yep, that's what I have now. But it wasn't always that way.
Once upon a time a long, long time ago (eons really), I was loved, truly loved. I soared. His touch, his being, his print are set upon my heart. He was a boy on the verge of being a man but he was the one who taught me about life, love and all of the really cool things in life. He was my first EVERYTHING.
All of the big, inspiring moments in my life were experienced with him. More importantly, he made me feel comfortable with the small, gentle moments in life.
Today I am loved. No longer by the boy on the verge of being a man, but loved all the same. It's been so long since I thought of him. Is this what happens when you get older and "wiser"? Do the memories just rush back to surround you to the point of distraction?
I wish I could have seen the man that he became. I wish that I had been strong eough to have been an instrument in building that man. But I was unreasonable and wrong and out of my league. I sent him away. I shunned him.
Life has a way of moving forward. And yet I can never move away from the fact that that boy forged my present. I expected all to be like him. And they are not. He damaged me with his perfection.
But as I said, life moves forward. Today I am loved. Just not by the boy on the verge of being a man.
Once upon a time a long, long time ago (eons really), I was loved, truly loved. I soared. His touch, his being, his print are set upon my heart. He was a boy on the verge of being a man but he was the one who taught me about life, love and all of the really cool things in life. He was my first EVERYTHING.
All of the big, inspiring moments in my life were experienced with him. More importantly, he made me feel comfortable with the small, gentle moments in life.
Today I am loved. No longer by the boy on the verge of being a man, but loved all the same. It's been so long since I thought of him. Is this what happens when you get older and "wiser"? Do the memories just rush back to surround you to the point of distraction?
I wish I could have seen the man that he became. I wish that I had been strong eough to have been an instrument in building that man. But I was unreasonable and wrong and out of my league. I sent him away. I shunned him.
Life has a way of moving forward. And yet I can never move away from the fact that that boy forged my present. I expected all to be like him. And they are not. He damaged me with his perfection.
But as I said, life moves forward. Today I am loved. Just not by the boy on the verge of being a man.