it’s what we needed.
October 17, 2011
I’m sitting here and I’m wondering if I have what it takes to truly love someone for who they are. You make me want to learn how. It is when I play the second movement of that Mozart sonata, I realize, yeah, we could always finish each others thoughts, we could play games and I could play the piano for you, forever. The cat curled up tight, next to me, and that spiced cider was oh so good. Maybe next year, we’ll be in love and we can drink spiced cider together. We could watch our favourite movies and sing our favorite songs. I was telling her how I want to write more music and she told me I should just do that, but I told her I wasn’t inspired. Well, I’m inspired now and the words won’t stop coming. Sometimes, I wish inspiration was a faucet you could turn off and then on again. That you weren’t always sitting around waiting for it, like rain in a desert. I’d wait for you anywhere though. I’d write on every tree, and I would drown the birds out with songs so beautiful, they’d stop singing and listen to me. You’d stop and listen too. And then you’d walk over and ask me to jump in a pile of leaves with you, you’d ask me to love God with you and I would tell you that I want that more than anything.
Anything.
So the other day, I thought about telling you that dream I had once, that got interrupted because the dog started actually throwing up on my bed in the middle of the night. I never finished the dream. It was about you, but I’m not sure what happened in it. Sometimes, I would forge the river in the summer and wish that it was deeper in the middle, like it used to be when we were kids. We’d jump from the bank into the river, but now we can’t, because of the flood and how it washed dirt, rocks and mud into our favourite swimming hole and made it shallow, like the rest of the river.
