You know that moment when you are laying with someone and you start to look at them for a little bit. Noticing their breath. The little sounds they make when they sleep. The way their body breathes life into itself. Then they wake up and look at you. And they move in closer. They wrap themselves in you. And you both drift together..
I want that moment but all the time. Not specifically laying in bed or anything like that. No, I want the moment when your eyes meet and they realize that at this very second there’s nothing more important to being here and closer to you.
I want to live in that little moment for as long as I can.
I want to revel in the notion that anyone would want to feel closer to me.
But you can’t live in moments. Time moves. But you should spend your entire life trying to find and feel that moment over and over and over and over and that’s when you know. When you find someone that you can’t imagine that tiny little moment without. That’s when you’ve found where you’re supposed to be.
" Now, I’ve walked through hell for you,
What’s an adventurer to do
But rest these feet at home with you”
You're bred to fold and tear apart like paper tigers
The internet is a great way to make yourself feel lonely.
Its terribly isolating. It’s too quiet despite there being millions of things happening every second that gets recorded to all these different social outlets. You’re not living any of it. You’re watching someone else do it.
"As I wrestle with my broken breath I’ve got these scratches and sores I watch you lit up by a machine This is more than I can afford It’s got me tangled and tongue-tied Heaving blackened lungs I pay penance for the things I think I’ve lost, and all I’ve done So can you guide me, Sandman, with our bodies warm? The only way I’ll lapse into this coma Is the spark of your sweet storm The sound of rain in a graveyard The sound of us escalates So tell me that you want me, need me And that it’s not too late.”
It was story amongst the younger members of Team Sweatpants. Lots of talk about weird things that happened in High School and Jr. High.
And the first time you had your heartbroken.
It kind of spun out of control from there.
Being one of the older people in the group, I happened to experience more things in my life than the others.
I began telling them of the girlfriends of the past.
About how things got started, how things ended, what happened thereafter.
Story after story after story of this girl, that girl, all the girls.
Multiples times the phrase “I totally thought it real love” were said.
And I start to think, shit, I thought that a lot. And I’m sure some of them thought that too. I’m sure a lot people think that.
It’s sad. Ya know, to once be in love with someone. To wish for everlasting passion and desire for one another. To feel the eternal flame of romance.
But then it fades.
For a lucky few, true love lasts forever, is actually true. But for most, its just words you say to someone because for that moment in time, you think its real.
I’ve felt love come and go and its strange to look back and realize that some of those people aren’t even a thing in your life anymore. They were blips in a timeline of your life.
Stories you tell.
It’s so easy for the most important person in your life at one time to become a stranger.
I dated a girl for two years and thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with her and now, I don’t even really remember her voice. I haven’t seen in almost 2 years. I’m not particularly sad about it or anything but I just can’t help but to feel weird about the fact that she was my all at one point and now she’s basically nothing to me.
People will disappear from your life. Its just what happens. And though it really sucks when it does, you should realize that if the universe wanted you to be around or with each other, then it would keep you together.
I miss moments from my past. I really do sometimes. But the universe didn’t want any of us to stay together. None of us tried to stay together.
Our lives our fine without us together.
I don’t really know where this was going. Words just kept coming out. I’m not sure if I have a message or something. I don’t think I’m sad. Like 75% sure. Maybe thinking about the past is only good if you’re a historian or something.
“Arms and hearts and alcohol and faith We pull each other in and then we push it all away Arms and hearts and alcohol and faith We pull each other in and then we push it all away”
I must admit that I’m a bit shy but there a few words I would like to say to you. Just a couple of observations about yourself that brought me a bit joy on this ride home. Though it probably weird and silly, indulge me for a moment.
First is your hair. It’s wild. Its different. You’ve got curls for days. I want to get lost in it. Its definitely the best hair I’ve seen in a long while. So you’ve got that going for yourself.
Second, I noticed you were reading Breakfast of Champions. That’s pretty cool. I like Vonnegut. I couldn’t figure out whether or not you were reading for pleasure or it was an assignment. I hope its the former.
Also, you do this thing where you scratch the bottom of cheek while you read. I don’t know if you knew that or not but its just a little thing that happened to catch my attention.
I swear I wasn’t staring at you the entire ride. That’s creepy. I promise you I’m not a creep. It was just hard not to notice you.
Thirdly, your pants. They were a blue and white polka dot skinny/chino business. I don’t know clothes. But I liked your pants. I thought they were pretty rad. And your nose piercing. Usually that’s not my jam but it was working this time.
Any who, just wanted to tell you that I think your cool solely based off the 30 minute ride home next to you.
These are things I would’ve like to have said but public transportation is no place to start a relationship.
Or is it?
I don’t know
I’m a little out of the loop when it comes to these kinds of things.
I should’ve asked her if she wanted to go skip rocks or look at weird birds or something. I feel like she’d be down with that.
Oh well, I’ll never know. Now she only exist as word on a dumb tumblr.
I mean she actually exists in life but for me at this very moment, she’s just the girl on BART I didn’t talk to and am now writing about.
There's a crack in the edge of the end of the world
Where I will sit with my love in it’s fluorescent swirl. Eat us up, break it down to the tiniest cell In our room with a view and a window to hell Where those who buried bodies in their barrels of fun Will be marched through museums that display what they’ve done. They’ll be shot up through the sky by a cannon of sin Where we’ll reluctantly let them in. So can I lie in your grave?