It’s where I keep my dreams and memories when I try to sleep. I don’t want to lay here in the dark piecing together a broken heart or facing how things turned out. I’d really like to rest but my mind detests the idea. Yet, it helps me remember how I’ve been so reckless when it came to you.
Filament of memories, dimming like eyes fighting sleep, I exhaust myself protecting him. Whereas I was transparent, evident to what he was to me, he fluctuated every night— pulsing inside me— within my fragile barrier. Not too eager to replace it anytime soon, my heart and body beat to the flashes waiting for it to eventually burn itself out.
Love can be easily described. True love, however, will take a lifetime.
Romantics can write how they get butterflies— it feels more like having drank starlight. They use the most elegant of words— all I can come up with is, “I’m yours.” Even “Oh my Love’s” and “Thou art mine own breaths’” can’t do it justice. Maybe I’m just complicating it.
I never had a smile make me give up on anything before. When she glances at the boy in me, I see the pony-tailed beauty in her. We are with our faults, the byproduct of experiences to being adults.
If and when she cries, I feel the warmth of broken wishes when I wipe them away.
If and when she’s upset, I instead think of her more often— knowing the real meaning behind “I’m sorry.”
If and when she’s silent, my heart speaks for me rather than being right— coming to an understanding without words.
True love can’t be described. It’ll take more than a lifetime.
I know our memories never made it to platinum or gold. But I replay them like the day we made them. Hearing the smiles and feeling the seasons never get old when I’m taken back to the days of “I Love You’s” again.
Parts of the playlist can still be a little rough to listen to. I still hear your voice instead of Mariah’s singing “Always be my baby” where we were in the kitchen of our old apartment—making love. I can’t believe it’s been 18 years since you let go my hand and headed to heaven.
I know that time stands still where you are. I still burn CDs to have you right here with me. Hopefully, heaven lets your voice reach passed the stars and straight to me to title another playlist of memories.