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[one day] sorrow becomes his soulmate
Dec. 31st, 2005 09:58 amOne day when I'm older, prettier, smarter, better in all ways, I will find someone who loves me best on my worst days. Someone who cannot be in the same room as I am without touching me. Even if we're fighting and breaking each other into a million pieces, our skin will scream out for the other's and we will be unable to fight that instinct. Even if we don't realize it, other people will. They will recognize our inability to be near each other without somehow reassuring ourselves that the other is real, tangible, honestly there and not an elaborate joke created by a cruel trickster God with nothing better to do.
One day I will fall into bed next to this mythical person, and even if they're asleep, they will pull me close, and I will be loved. I will not just feel loved, I will be loved. When I've had a bad day, they will stroke my hair and lie to me when I need lies more than the truth.
Our hands will fit together despite appearances to the contrary, and when we touch I will be home, even if home is a million miles away and destroyed beyond all hope of being fixed. They will be home and feel the same way when I'm holding their hand.
One day someone will make up stories about the day we met and how it was meant to be, even if we both know it wasn't some great plan created by destiny. They will tell me these stories if I ever try to leave, having lost my mind for a second, and will listen when I tell my own story as they walk out the door.
Should they ever leave, should the story take a dark turn, they will think of me and at the same time we will both wonder how we couldn't make it work, even if all the reasons are beyond obvious.
One day I will love someone so much that I would willingly let them go, but not before I found a way to fight for them if the stories didn't work out as planned.
On cold days we'll walk up the street for ice-cream and laugh at those people who think ice-cream is only for summer, or we'll drown the silence stretching out between us in the rain. Either way we'll be together, and I will have hope, even on the darkest of days, that this won't be the end.
Even if it is.
And one day, when I need someone to find me in the darkness that falls unexpectedly, they will at least know where to start the search.
One day I will find someone I will love best on their worst days and I will love them both despite and because of their worst bits.
One day.
hmm. does that count as a postcard from the muse? If you pondered the little lock hanging over the entry, that's because I know it needs work, and odds are you either fell into this filter by mistake [d'oh!], or I figure you won't smack me with a trout for this. Trout away.
One day I will fall into bed next to this mythical person, and even if they're asleep, they will pull me close, and I will be loved. I will not just feel loved, I will be loved. When I've had a bad day, they will stroke my hair and lie to me when I need lies more than the truth.
Our hands will fit together despite appearances to the contrary, and when we touch I will be home, even if home is a million miles away and destroyed beyond all hope of being fixed. They will be home and feel the same way when I'm holding their hand.
One day someone will make up stories about the day we met and how it was meant to be, even if we both know it wasn't some great plan created by destiny. They will tell me these stories if I ever try to leave, having lost my mind for a second, and will listen when I tell my own story as they walk out the door.
Should they ever leave, should the story take a dark turn, they will think of me and at the same time we will both wonder how we couldn't make it work, even if all the reasons are beyond obvious.
One day I will love someone so much that I would willingly let them go, but not before I found a way to fight for them if the stories didn't work out as planned.
On cold days we'll walk up the street for ice-cream and laugh at those people who think ice-cream is only for summer, or we'll drown the silence stretching out between us in the rain. Either way we'll be together, and I will have hope, even on the darkest of days, that this won't be the end.
Even if it is.
And one day, when I need someone to find me in the darkness that falls unexpectedly, they will at least know where to start the search.
One day I will find someone I will love best on their worst days and I will love them both despite and because of their worst bits.
One day.
hmm. does that count as a postcard from the muse? If you pondered the little lock hanging over the entry, that's because I know it needs work, and odds are you either fell into this filter by mistake [d'oh!], or I figure you won't smack me with a trout for this. Trout away.
