Here I am. I was never old, but never young, and never made it past the starting block in this race.
I wake up with a haunted certainty, that i will never be woken up with kisses and pets. No one will call to say they love me, miss me, are waiting for me to come home. My calls will never be answered with "hello, beautiful", and i will never be surprised with flowers, visits, or dinner from the one i love.
Strangely, the reason i won't have it is because i wouldn't know what i'd do with if it i had it. I don't play the part of needing it, wanting it. I move too slowly, tentative and anxious. I have a dozen big brothers in the world, and they love me but it's a comfortable love. It's safe.
There was a man in my life, a little over a year ago. And he loved me. He loved me, and was sure of my beauty, my frankness, openness, innocence. If i was a different person, i would have stayed with him.
But i crave more than these things. These little gestures don't mean much without the things i'm trying to build my life on. I want intelligence, stories of triumphs and failures, i want to be intrigued and confused and i want to be found out. I want to be so much more than i appear.
So all the little things fall by the wayside when people find me. I am the maker of small gestures, though they go unnoticed by many. And i am not here waiting for my one-and-only. That person is mythy, unreal and unlikely.
No, i wait and find and hope that one of the people i collect will be as amused, loved, trusted and cared for as they are by me.
Unknown "gel-douche^^" Sleepy
- 16 years, 8 months, 8 days ago
