10:05 p.m. - 2015-01-12
love
well, love didn't mean much,
not after you.
it was as pretend as you convinced me it was,
as confused by me as I was by it,
as imaginary as I became to myself,
life sort of a dream, and so I made sure I was happy.
none of it had anything to do with love.

then i met this human being
that is really more human than any sort of dream,
because once he left me, i still felt him,
and when he came back, it was sorta like
i was writing a story and he was helping me write it.
then i started to realize what love is,
that it's just this natural balance,
and not an act.
it's me and it's you and it's being on the same journey.
and if you make lists about yourself some way
and keep tabs on what makes you you, from the time you had your first memory,
cuz, by golly, you realize life is but a dream, sweetheart,

you'll meet love, whether you goshdarn want to or not.

cuz you know what? it's been there the whole damn time.

don't have hope, though. just so you don't lose it. not to say you will, because it might get thick, calloused against loss, with true love.

love is time to

just be. just be.

previous - next