When Every Breath is a Love Note
Love is a drug, a damn good drug but a drug none the less. Ever users a junkie, and no matter how long you’ve been clean you’re a junkie, an addict, until the day you die. Life is hollow, boring, empty, it’s a waste if you’ve never known love, it’s not life, it’s just a pale cold pantomime of life, motions and shadows but nothing more. Or, or you say ‘fuck it’ you tap the vein, you hit the plunger you get your first taste and your hooked for life. That’s what love is, it a full on cerebral assault, the delivery system may change but that’s not what they’re chasing.
Most days I do think about her, sometimes more than others, the thoughts never stray too far though. She’s different now, who she is today is so far from who she is to me. We wouldn’t recognize one another but for the social obligation to do so. She’s become a waking dream I visit in the in between hours, a place I can go to to hide. A place where all of my petty fears and issues don’t matter, a place where making one another happy, just because you were together was all that mattered. A place without expectations, without time, without death, without betrayal, a place, a place where love is enough, and everything else falls into it’s place along the wayside.
That’s the place where I see here now, in a place where I can protect her from all the worlds horrors, protect her from all my horrors. I know this, this love, I feel it in every bone of my body, proclaim it with every breath I take, and every night when I close my eyes I can find that place, I can forget about how far I’ve gone from that place, from that person. I… I never intended to fall in the first place, it wan’t the plan. It’s never the plan. You fall in love young, you never fall out of it, even when your stories over, when the love story has run it’s course you’ll always know exactly the page you’ll open it to, the passage you’ll read again and again. I’m utterly, madly in love, beyond reason, beyond any rational justification I am. I am completely and utterly in love…with no one, or maybe with everyone, maybe they’re the same difference really. My life is becoming one long, wonderful love letter written to a beautiful dream I seem to keep having.
I know the story, I just keep walking through life, hands in my pockets, kicking pebbles down the road looking for the story to start, and it just never seems to. Any port in a storm right? Well some nights I could swear I was drowning.
Every great story is about Love, Love of one thing or another. Love of a person, love of one’s self, love of an ideal. Love is the first and only thing that can bring a man, or push a man, or allow a man to do anything of wonder or brilliance. Every word I’ve ever written has been scratched or typed with her face in my mind, every line written for her to read, dictated in my mind even in her voice. Love…the most wonderful torture, the most nightmarish ecstasy, the guiding light and engulfing shadows of life itself. The only thing that makes living worth the effort. Gotta love it
Until Next Time Kiddies