Sat, Jun. 21
... Leads me to moonlight
I haven't gone to bed before 2:30 a.m. in weeks, and what do I do with myself during these hours? I sit. I read a book. I paint. I write, if I'm lucky. I watch TV. I increase the number of movies I've seen--tonight it was
WayDownTown. I drive aimlessly around residential areas in the middle of the night. I sit in Denny's with my books and journals, and drink too much cherry coke.
It just seems so dry. I can say boring, but that's so redundant. "Dry" just seems to be the best way to describe it.
I love those hours, but they're the loneliest. They're the hours that remind me that I wake up to face the day alone.
"Could it be, this is where I belong; it is you I have loved all along."
I want to know if someday, I'll say that. "All along." I always say that I've loved twice thus far, and I hate to hear someone disregard a love, just because it's not current, convenient, or otherwise acceptable.
I have no doubt that someday I'll love someone with a kind of love that will eclipse anything I've experienced thus far, but I wonder if it'll ever make me say that I've never loved before. Will those loves mean nothing in light of the strength of a deeper love? Will I ever have the gall to say that they never were love?
Call it puppy love, say that it wasn't mature, tell me that in fifty years I'll understand more about love than I realize now that I don't know. I know that. But don't tell me that the love wasn't real. If it wasn't there, what was I doing making the sort of commitments I did? Why did I stick with it for five years, if I didn't know what love was, to at least some degree?
I just want something to come along that will blow that out of the water. And I want to know if it's sitting here staring me in the face, and I'm not taking it.
I'm not making sense. I want to have a release, but I just can't get it out. I can't wrap my mind around the words I want to say, and it's not a fun feeling.
infinite || abyss
posted at 1:48 a.m.
