I want an endless number of days like today. The perfect heat and cool water close by just in case. No sounds to speak of but the birds and the buzzing things and giggles from somewhere in the green grass.

My heart still races but I no longer seek only the wild adventures of youth and irresponsibility. I can say my best days are spent doing nothing much, normal simple things, pulling weeds, walking in no hurry, sitting still.

I want quiet, calm; a lifetime of the good kinds of slow.

P.S. It's been one year since I started this little blog, looking and thinking back on one years time and how many things can change and how quickly the time can pass.

Perseverance

Eyes wide open, heart on the floor, tripping over myself and choking on my own breath. A few rays of your sunshine, a few moments worth of your touch is all it takes to erase everything for a time. Warmth and reminders and giggles and calm and you have me believing, I can do this and I will. I can make a life out of these broken pieces. I will grow like weeds through the cracks in the concrete and I'll spread and eventually overtake everything else and the hard, rough surfaces will slowly disappear until the lush green freshness of a new life is all that remains.

It takes work, more than I could have ever imagined possible for one person, just to stay alive. Harder work than I thought I would ever see, being as spoiled as I've been. How naive to think I could deserve the happy ending, the fairytale life I pictured, without the turmoil or the villains or the moments of triumph.

So much to get through, so far to dig before I reach the surface. I may get a glimpse of the sun on occasion but the walls of my tunnel are fickle and insecure and crumble for fun if I get too sure of anything. My only hope is that you keep calling to me from above, something in the softness of your voice eggs me on, when I hear it I find a way to keep my muscles moving no matter how tired I grow and how loudly they rebel.

Surrounding myself and being surrounded by great love stories, observing every move so closely. The way a man jumps to answer the phone when it's his love's voice waiting on the line. And maybe she's in a far away place and there's a void now, a hole, where she was all this time and a few minutes here or there make up the delicate threads still binding and weaving their everythings together until their eyes can meet again.

There's something so full of pull in the eyes of lovers, my heart races even to see it between others; my mind can replay and replay your eyes seeing mine and my body melts on impact, all the more convenient for you to drink me up to the last drop and it's just so easy.