We’re like two boats,
you and me,
tethered together,
drifting empty.
But I rather cut loose,
than be lost with you.
We belong separately,
even in this churning sea.
We’re like two boats,
you and me,
tethered together,
drifting empty.
But I rather cut loose,
than be lost with you.
We belong separately,
even in this churning sea.
I have written so many versions of us. There is a version where I go to your Halloween Party that night and drink just enough to sit next to you on the couch, and we inch closer and closer together, emboldened by the thought of us, until, at last, I rest my head on your shoulder, and settle into you for the rest of my life.
But we both know I didn’t go and I didn’t know that night was the last chance at the chance of us.
I used to think love is a shout
across two canyons
But now I know it’s a whisper
between two lovers
who don’t care if anyone else hears
Relationships are like putting together a puzzle. You are building something you hope will come together and be amazing. You are so intent on fitting the pieces together but you have no idea what the bigger picture is supposed to look like. You don’t know what you are going to get after all your hard work. You are stuck on the smaller details. Sometimes you get it wrong and you have to turn and twist the pieces to get it right. Sometimes smashing them together even when the fit isn’t quite right. Sometimes you are missing pieces entirely and you do not realize it until everything else is in place and you are too far along.
Or
Maybe relationships are like an, old decrepit house. They begin with a small roof leak, then the toilet breaks down, and then the kitchen stove goes. You focus on these annoying, but fixable problems only to find out when you are done, that the whole house has crumbled to the ground. There was no foundation. You never had a home.
I didn’t know about the missing pieces. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.