still becoming emotionally embedded. still vulnerable even when i consciously try to become otherwise. it's a useless feat, really. not really in a bad way, though. i like the idea. i like the concept. i like the thought. i like the company


but i'm not sure, not sure.

sometimes i feel stale. i sit and wait. sit and wait for answers that don't come. s sit and wait for answers that don't even have questions to begin with. answers that might not get me anywhere. sit and wait until i realize it's useless to sit. and it's useless to be waiting, when i could be doing creating making feeling thinking. somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. i get up and walk. the ground is tough beneath my feet. almost like trying to run in the hot sand on a florida beach. somewhere probably where you've planted a seed of your memory tree. on occasions the answers feel as if they are in arms reach. the world is lifted and the air is thin.

i remember when the air was thin and the air was blue. there are only a few moments in my life where i've felt that way. once it happens with a person, you know. you know.
so is it the potential that keeps me around? is it the longing? i don't need it; i know that. because you need yourself before you need anything else. again, waiting for something that might not even exist. wanting to reach a heightened state of being that I might never, ever, ever step forward to. i stand back. take a breath. two, three. my eyes are open. I'm not sure, not sure.

what do i long for? the memorization of a silhouette. the thin air. the reciprocated stare that holds my gaze. but not just that- it needs to hold truth. (close attention to detail. extreme close attention to detail. maybe too much.) a hug from behind. the breaking of walls. complete, utter, lack of walls. well, maybe plus 1. but definitely minus about 4. 1 wall is always good i think. i think.

this is confusing me. it could be different with everything. everyone. i could be expecting something in someone that doesn't exist in the form I know it to be, but exists in other forms I might be subconsciously blinding myself to. well. maybe i don't give myself enough credit. I know what i feel, i feel what i know. (right?)

love is comfort. i don't want to fight that notion. i believe that and i should believe that and i want to believe that. love is comfort. that isn't the extent of it, but it's the base of it. comfort and trust. love is comfort and trust. they are related, intertwined, connected at their roots. love is the ability to melt. it is the ability to freeze after you melt and before you melt and even while you melt. and love is the ability to crack. the container breaks, the liquids spill. love is unity. mutual accordance. accordance within division, though. or, independence i guess. individuality.

-idontreallyknowwhati'mtalkingaboutijustliketothinkido-

he just wanted to touch her. he wanted nothing more than to touch her. the sun was bright, it was a wednesday. the way it reflected off of her natural looking skin was remarkable. she's beautiful, he thought. she's so beautiful. i just want to touch her. he wants to sink. sink in the cotton with her, within her, on her, in her. he wants to trace her beauty marks and memorize her curves in the darkness. he takes her shopping. his heart it breaks. he can't give her what she needs what he knows she deserves. she's so beautiful he loves her. shes so beautiful he just wants to touch her. he wants to show her he loves her. god she's wonderful. he loves the dimples in her cheeks when she smiles. but he likes how the left dimple is much bigger and more noticeable than the right. he likes her eyes. theyre gentle and sincere, he feels whole when he stares in them. he see's himself in her. he likes the beauty mark on her neck and the one on her arm too and the one right on her side. he follows them. down her smooth skin. he loves her more than he knows how to love. she's quiet but knows when to show herself; especially with him. when he catches her at the right time sometimes she's in the mood for a pillow fight. he knows it's childish but he likes to see her smile anything to see her smile. at night they lie in bed with the tv on. the curtains allow a small amount of light to shine through. the perfect amount. the air is light, the colors blend. he touches her she touches him they embrace entwine combine show their love. he loves her he wants to hold her forever he wants to tell her everything he feels for her but doesn't know how. words can't say it actions don't close nothing does it justice he hopes she understands. anything to see her smile. god she's so beautiful, so beautiful. he loves her.