Sometimes you do the things you love; you leave the ones you love behind.
I love your thoughts, I wish I could spend a day living inside of them. Other times, I don't. Though I have this theory--that everyone has this way about them that enables to have a subtle connection to the thoughts of others. A sixth sense? Perhaps, though I like to think of it more as an understanding that results in both subjects being human. We've all been there. We'll all be there. We know what it's like. We overcome.
She used to be terrified of owls. That night, they swarmed. They fought, they terrified. And she barely got through the night, through means of tears and blankets and covering herself in with the night. They got to her, though she did nothing. That was the beginning--to life. That was when she got her first taste.
The owls, they still come.
Steadier now. Stealthier.
And by the unfortunate nature of maturity, she has become accustomed to their presence.
God, I'm so tired of seeing them.
I'm so tired of being used. I can't be wanted for myself, no.
No, what was I thinking?
How selfish of you.
I'm not exactly an innocent child,
[as I've seen the owls for years]
but I am a person. I am a friend.
And I deserve better
than to be treated
just like her.
What ever happened to respect?
Where did love go? Kindness?
What about simplicity--
putting others first--
or cherishing someone
just because their soul
speaks to yours?
What ever happened to letters,
or waiting for someone, learning
patience--because they were worth it.
Because they were all you could ever
hope for. Dream of. Imagine.
What ever happened to whispers
and sweetness? To smiles and
looking each other in the eye?
To not kissing someone in hopes of
making it right, not for you, but the other.
Making her feel like you could wait
for however long it took, because it didn't matter.
Kissing isn't the point--it's a statement--
a reflection of continual dedication
and affection. That's all. It's not important.
It's not even required.
I long to meet a man who can honestly say
that he could spend every single day with me
for the rest of his life, and love me,
and not have to kiss me once. He'd be satisfied
with just being with me, knowing me, learning me,
and that'd be it. That's all he could ever ask for.
That's the man I'm on the watch for.
I'm not a romantic; I seek goodness;
I seek a love worthwhile.
I'm just tired of surrendering
to the clutches of a selfish love.
Sometimes you have to see the world to find out what you left behind.