Each night, I lay tangled within the musky sheets upon my bed. And without a care of tomorrow’s misfortune…I wish. Gazing outside of the fingerprint stained glass, the galaxy looks me straight in the eye and holds every dream that has at some point given me hope—hope that our world’s everlasting desire will cross paths with me. The want never ends, just fades softly as life goes on and age overcomes your innocence. And like a rare summer storm it strikes our hearts, the bolts leaving smoky scars behind even after light disappears. But we can’t outrun the down pour that follows and may never be able to reach the rainbow painting a masterpiece in the sky. Yet with all the pain and sorrow that comes with this passion, we all cast an upward strive towards it…love. Precious moments thaw the ancient, overlooked pages of Shakespeare bringing true affection alive in the twenty first century. And the dark, lonely nights spent dozing away on one side of the bed disappear when a castle of sheets is replaced by the unforgettable warmth of amity. Burning a blaze across generations of fallen love, some just yearn for something deeper than they have ever received but always deserved. Others search for years, even decades, but never open their heart to what’s always been within reach. And sometimes the butterflies that flutter their way into our body are all we need for the essence of our younger selves to beam across a room again. But how do we get this landslide of love to begin crashing over each mountain that’s blocking the view? How does now become forever and always? And even after we’ve reached the aisle of eternal love, what keeps the promise of death do us part alive? We may never know what exactly brings us to the long road of enchantment or if it even exists. What’s clear to most of us is that we’ll always want a glimpse of love and will die trying to grasp it. Because the bittersweet symphony that fills the air when our song comes on brings memories of swaying across the night rushing back. Nothing brings a smile to someone’s face more than the warmth of another’s arms wrapping slowly around their waist and lifting every ounce of affection along with a summer breeze. And with the alluring whisper of the saxophone ringing in our hearts, there is no other place the beat of our shoes would rather be. As your breath speeds up with mine, the world around us stops and our eyes meet. Hands joined and the shadow of our silhouettes together, every tear past fallen suddenly dries and my voice is once again heard. That pure second of innocent love is why we spend every waking instant pacing back and forth, waiting for assurance. And without that, you’ll never know if the storybooks that age in the attic were true from the very beginning. Without love, life would not be the experience we know now.
May 14, 2012