It's scary to love someone this much. My whole self is tied tight to him, and my heartstrings are alive with music; music which is both comforting and frightfully raw. Minutes apart feel like days, and don't get me started on days apart. All those taught strings are ready to be played by his laughter, hands, decisions, but he is way over there. So the orchestra in my chest switches tunes; they play the strings of solitude, for a song I no longer want to recognize. The music is good but seemingly unfamiliar; distant reminders of what came first. I will listen, because I have no choice, but I can't get his song away from me. He's every echo and every note, and am happily caught up in the music of his life. It will all be foreign if it is not him.
drawing cred: unknown
1 comment:
Mmmm. Love does that. (The wonderful, dizzying, blasted thing.)
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