Cosmic Mist
Bluelighter
Isn't it strange how you never really miss things until they are gone?
Like today, when i took you to your flight, how i was not that affectionate i do not know. Why i thought that it was better to talk endlessly about snails than to tell you that i love you, i cannot explain. And when you said that you would miss me more than anything else, why did i not feel capable of returning that same sentiment with an all emcompassing embrace?
It is as though the memory of you, and the feeling you give me from the other side of the world, is more meaningful to me than all of the hugs and kisses you wished to bestow upon me through the last 2 months we spent travelling the world together. And now you are gone i don't know whether to feel relieved that i can now have some order in my life, or break down and cry because i cannot have you hear to hold me and make me feel better again...
...to be honest, i think it's a bit of both...
When i finally arrived home to my empty appartment it began to rain. Almost the entire time i have been living here in Spain it has not really rained, yet, this afternoon it was as though the sky itself was sharing my grief. How can i express in words the urgency with which i need to talk to you, need to feel your soft embrace and feel your warm breath on the back of my neck? How can i make you understand that your presence makes me feel safe and happy, and that your love fill me with energy and peace?
... and why did i not say these things to you just 6 hours ago when you were waving goodbye and walking through the security gates?
Why did i feel so confused? And what was i so confused about?
Certainty has never been my strong point, unless it concerned things like running away to other countries to escape from the worldly responsibilities dragging me further and further downward into a world where bigger is better, and average just doesn't stand a chance...
... perhaps it is just that you scare me. You love me so much, and i really don't understand why. You can look me in the eye and tell me how beautiful i am without laughing, when all i see in the mirror is cellulite, pimples, and frizzy hair.
Why do you love me?
How can you love me?
How can you love me when i cannot confirm that i love you...?
Like today, when i took you to your flight, how i was not that affectionate i do not know. Why i thought that it was better to talk endlessly about snails than to tell you that i love you, i cannot explain. And when you said that you would miss me more than anything else, why did i not feel capable of returning that same sentiment with an all emcompassing embrace?
It is as though the memory of you, and the feeling you give me from the other side of the world, is more meaningful to me than all of the hugs and kisses you wished to bestow upon me through the last 2 months we spent travelling the world together. And now you are gone i don't know whether to feel relieved that i can now have some order in my life, or break down and cry because i cannot have you hear to hold me and make me feel better again...
...to be honest, i think it's a bit of both...
When i finally arrived home to my empty appartment it began to rain. Almost the entire time i have been living here in Spain it has not really rained, yet, this afternoon it was as though the sky itself was sharing my grief. How can i express in words the urgency with which i need to talk to you, need to feel your soft embrace and feel your warm breath on the back of my neck? How can i make you understand that your presence makes me feel safe and happy, and that your love fill me with energy and peace?
... and why did i not say these things to you just 6 hours ago when you were waving goodbye and walking through the security gates?
Why did i feel so confused? And what was i so confused about?
Certainty has never been my strong point, unless it concerned things like running away to other countries to escape from the worldly responsibilities dragging me further and further downward into a world where bigger is better, and average just doesn't stand a chance...
... perhaps it is just that you scare me. You love me so much, and i really don't understand why. You can look me in the eye and tell me how beautiful i am without laughing, when all i see in the mirror is cellulite, pimples, and frizzy hair.
Why do you love me?
How can you love me?
How can you love me when i cannot confirm that i love you...?
