And Then There Are Days Like This
What am I doing.
What are we doing.
We're playing this game, you know? The Waiting Game, among others.
Let's cross the bridge when we get there.
You go first.
No you go first.
Oh look, its a line.
Let's cross it.
Okay let's go back.
Okay let's cross it.
This is exciting, but sometimes it baffles me how we find ourselves back here.
I try to stop myself from going too far, but my heart always gets ahead, you know that.
Its apparent you know how much I love you. I can tell, I really can.
Its apparent I know that you love me. I can tell, I really can.
You know, time and time again, I feel myself gazing at me as an outsider.
Someone who sees it all, but I can't feel myself as I stare at me, writing you on that journal.
As an outsider, I'd say this, this is all trivial. What's so new about this?
But no, I defend myself from myself.
And this is where the confusion begins.
Almost saying the same lines, at the exact same pace, at the exact same time.
"See you tomorrow at 4?" I ask myself.
And then I hope not to.
I'd really hope this would end with a miracle, you know?
Magically. With Unicorns.
There's no other way I'd want it.