Sometimes you know how love goes...
Sometimes you wake up and the happiest feeling is flooding your body and you know exactly where it came from. A soft voice could be whispering in your ear or maybe its just the memory that in your arms last night for the first time you were able to hold her or tell her how you felt and not give in to the pulsing beating pounding arythmic heart throb that keeps you silent. And once you broke through the anxiety and all that, once you got past that sound that wouldn't let go, you crippled under the weight of you imagination running wild. In not even a few minutes you wouldn't move for fear that this moment would end and never be again. And even though it could be again, you wouldn't risk it. And for some reason, it seemed like it could be risque to be risk your pact with yourself to say no to anything near a feeling regurgitating its way out of you. And for some reason, it seem hard to not hope for the best. And for some reason, even though there was an honest moment of sombriety, you were drunk in the smell of her looking at you, looking at her. Lost in a sea of the smiles that she exhuded. And when the evening was over, and chilvery said don't let her walk alone, and your dropped her off, you saw her turn the other way and almost hide from you and you thought to yourself. Thats not a problem because she was honest from the start. And you wouldn't want to know if it was anything different. And even though you've been down this road, or some varietion of it, you're willing to put yourself out there. And even though the blade is piercing hot against your skin, you sit there walking toward it, etching, waiting for that jab that will take some the last of the broken pieces of your heart and drown you in your own dreams, or tears, or hopes. And I know how that story goes, I know how that story ends. Like every other epic novel that starts with me, and adds a piece of you and leaves me just me, standing naked, in the cold, as the rain drenches my body. Sometimes thats the only way to remember you're still alive. And even if that is not how this story goes, I still want to open up this time. I know what I can't do, and so I will do it this time. This time it won't be me keeping secrets, but her keeping mine. And even if those secrets are "how are you doing?" it will be fine.
So I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking Lover's Leap. And as the story goes, only true lovers will make it to the water, and I see all the rocks aoff this jump, I hope you're the gentle dive and not the jagged rock.
I envisioned her asking that most critical question, why her. And it's simple: what moment in every message, moment or minute have you not thought, maybe if I asked something about me, he'd say the same thing I would. I know how you like your surprises cause its how I like mine. Your ego, which I tried to save room for, your smile, which I tried not to get lost in, your humour, which has never been as much something I've been attracted to anyone for as you... I don't know how, but you reminded me of when I was comfortable being me with a single line of a single movie that I thought I was the only one willing to quote from it. And than the guy pissed on the statue behind us, and we drove off into the cold night down some steep hill in search of iced cream at some ungodly hour when the only reason I was looking for iced cream was an excuse to spend more time with you when I knew my stomach and it's fraility wouldn't be able to handle it. Acid reflux and I love the spices, lactose intolerance and I love the milk. Broken hearted and I still talk to you.
This is how dreams are made...
And we planned. How richly is that? Forewarning to random thoughts. That we could sit with an idea of doing something on a date at a time. Considering that I don't plan, and apparently neither does she. But we set one and I keep dreaming of what it could mean, and just like magazines never get the voice of the opposite sex right, my head will only fill with ideas and dreams. And for the first time in a long time, they're simple. We sit infront of a first infront of a snowy window. Not more than a kiss and a hot chocolate and a blanket, and we're halfway there. What would happen if we got the other half? I want to know what you're thinking, but I don't know how to ask. And I don't know if I want to know the answer. But maybe I have to, to make sure I don't get out of control. To make sure my imagination doesn't over run me. To make sure that if it's only a dream, I don't start dreaming again.
And you don't dream, haven't dreamed in a long time. Or as you've been told, you do dream, but you're guard is so high that not even you want to know what lurkes in your dreams. But if I close my eyes, right now, I see it all, everything, including every perfection and imperfection. And my favourite is watching you as it almost seems you feel awkward finding the right seat to sit in. Maybe we'll make a lady out of you yet... And I enjoyed cooking for you and somehow, with only a few days of knowledge of everything here, I was able to write this epic passage to remember what it is that makes up these lives.
Sometimes, you know how love goes. Sometimes, it's exactly what you expected.
This time, let's hope, it's absolutely nothing like planned.
So I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking Lover's Leap. And as the story goes, only true lovers will make it to the water, and I see all the rocks aoff this jump, I hope you're the gentle dive and not the jagged rock.
I envisioned her asking that most critical question, why her. And it's simple: what moment in every message, moment or minute have you not thought, maybe if I asked something about me, he'd say the same thing I would. I know how you like your surprises cause its how I like mine. Your ego, which I tried to save room for, your smile, which I tried not to get lost in, your humour, which has never been as much something I've been attracted to anyone for as you... I don't know how, but you reminded me of when I was comfortable being me with a single line of a single movie that I thought I was the only one willing to quote from it. And than the guy pissed on the statue behind us, and we drove off into the cold night down some steep hill in search of iced cream at some ungodly hour when the only reason I was looking for iced cream was an excuse to spend more time with you when I knew my stomach and it's fraility wouldn't be able to handle it. Acid reflux and I love the spices, lactose intolerance and I love the milk. Broken hearted and I still talk to you.
This is how dreams are made...
And we planned. How richly is that? Forewarning to random thoughts. That we could sit with an idea of doing something on a date at a time. Considering that I don't plan, and apparently neither does she. But we set one and I keep dreaming of what it could mean, and just like magazines never get the voice of the opposite sex right, my head will only fill with ideas and dreams. And for the first time in a long time, they're simple. We sit infront of a first infront of a snowy window. Not more than a kiss and a hot chocolate and a blanket, and we're halfway there. What would happen if we got the other half? I want to know what you're thinking, but I don't know how to ask. And I don't know if I want to know the answer. But maybe I have to, to make sure I don't get out of control. To make sure my imagination doesn't over run me. To make sure that if it's only a dream, I don't start dreaming again.
And you don't dream, haven't dreamed in a long time. Or as you've been told, you do dream, but you're guard is so high that not even you want to know what lurkes in your dreams. But if I close my eyes, right now, I see it all, everything, including every perfection and imperfection. And my favourite is watching you as it almost seems you feel awkward finding the right seat to sit in. Maybe we'll make a lady out of you yet... And I enjoyed cooking for you and somehow, with only a few days of knowledge of everything here, I was able to write this epic passage to remember what it is that makes up these lives.
Sometimes, you know how love goes. Sometimes, it's exactly what you expected.
This time, let's hope, it's absolutely nothing like planned.