intrOspection

[Teaday]

The look: dark hat, pulled nearly over your eyes. I notice a sense of calmness. You're usually not so calm.

 

The only bar where smoke can't blind us, the flashing lights do. Deaf from music barking at us; a new awareness connects us, mentally weaving us, 2 separate threads, pinks and reds, to create something entirely new.

 

Though we silently, but knowingly, wish to hear something different, together we appreciate the movement of the floor. Unable to hear ourselves think, we feel the strength. You say something, I still can't hear. I'm blind, deaf, and dumb. Like a conscious trance. I know what I'm thinking: don't leave. I like standing next to you, under the lights, between the speakers, feeling, and for some reason appreciating something that I don't understand.

[Teaday]

Possibly more alarming than a hope that doesn't come true is a hope that does. A hope that not only comes true, but is later condemned to feelings of nostalgia upon retrospection. Under those same flashing lights, we were brought together, but the mutuality of our apprehension only tore us apart.

 

If I believed in fate, I would say it was meant to happen so quickly. I have felt the loss, but have also recognized the gain. You have guided me to a better appreciation for living in the present, instilling a love for all things resulting in bright eyes and a wide smile. I'll take this loss, as a lesson, and I am hopeful that in time I will find someone comparable to you.