My Heart Was Pounding, It Skipped A Beat
Happy Birthday to me. It doesn't feel like my birthday. It seems less important every year. I'm 19 and it's not much different from 18. But I'm chipper, and I'm welcoming the day with a little smile. The birds are greeting me this morning, as the sun rises. I don't know if I should go to sleep or not, because this is my day, and I don't really want to waste it. Maybe I'll just sit here and review my past year. I liked it. I hated it. I loved it. This next year will be quite interesting, totally different. All new people and places. I'm almost ready to let this past year go and embrace the new one. Almost.
The first time I see you after a period of being away is always surprising. It's like I'm waking up into a different life. The first moment never ends up being like I pictured it. We're both taken back for a few minutes, remembering the details of each other's face. This past week I missed you a lot, but when I entered your house there wasn't an open armed welcome... it was a subtle relief to be back again, back home. I was a little disappointed that there wasn't a resounding feeling of contentment, but my happiness and love grew as the night lingered along. It's a comfortably familiar imperfection. Everything can continue now.
The first time I see you after a period of being away is always surprising. It's like I'm waking up into a different life. The first moment never ends up being like I pictured it. We're both taken back for a few minutes, remembering the details of each other's face. This past week I missed you a lot, but when I entered your house there wasn't an open armed welcome... it was a subtle relief to be back again, back home. I was a little disappointed that there wasn't a resounding feeling of contentment, but my happiness and love grew as the night lingered along. It's a comfortably familiar imperfection. Everything can continue now.