left home full of optimism. returned with a ringing in my ears and a distinct imbalance in my emotional equilibrium... returned with an ankle brace and a photograph that gives me goosebumps. returned feeling like I'd lived, for once, and with a realization of how much I'd missed the feeling.
maybe it was the low lighting, the stage presence, the hair in his eyes. maybe it was the way she made it a challenge, made me want - for once - to fight for him. maybe it was that feeling of giddy recklessness when I realized that finally, I'd won.
and the prize?
surreptitious handholding in the backseat of a cab, barreling through the city at 2 am; giggling over beer in a semi-circle in the kitchen, and the feeling of belonging exactly there; clumsily descending stairs, alone for the first time; whispers and mumbled confessions as the sky came to life and stained the bedroom blinds orange as night transformed, unnoticed, into morning.
waking late we made a morning of afternoon - arms and legs entangled, bloodshot eyes and sleepy smiles. head resting on my crossed arms I took a picture that didn't come out of his long fingers strumming guitar as fiona the little cat stalked playfully among the blankets.
"for love all love of other sights controls,
and makes one little room an everywhere..."
love?
maybe. it feels that way when I'm alone replaying the moments, storing every little detail, before it leaks like water from my clumsy cupped hands...
...so little like last time, when I gambled what we had and nearly lost it all... so little like last time, when everything was a game and I was just a checker on the board... hopping over the other pieces until they all disappeared.
maybe it was the low lighting, the stage presence, the hair in his eyes. maybe it was the way she made it a challenge, made me want - for once - to fight for him. maybe it was that feeling of giddy recklessness when I realized that finally, I'd won.
and the prize?
surreptitious handholding in the backseat of a cab, barreling through the city at 2 am; giggling over beer in a semi-circle in the kitchen, and the feeling of belonging exactly there; clumsily descending stairs, alone for the first time; whispers and mumbled confessions as the sky came to life and stained the bedroom blinds orange as night transformed, unnoticed, into morning.
waking late we made a morning of afternoon - arms and legs entangled, bloodshot eyes and sleepy smiles. head resting on my crossed arms I took a picture that didn't come out of his long fingers strumming guitar as fiona the little cat stalked playfully among the blankets.
"for love all love of other sights controls,
and makes one little room an everywhere..."
love?
maybe. it feels that way when I'm alone replaying the moments, storing every little detail, before it leaks like water from my clumsy cupped hands...
...so little like last time, when I gambled what we had and nearly lost it all... so little like last time, when everything was a game and I was just a checker on the board... hopping over the other pieces until they all disappeared.
