It's like...some sort of phantom.
Something that creeps up behind you. And encases you. Possesses you. Takes ahold of your soul and all that you are. All that you've ever been. All that you'll ever be.
It's not...something that you see. Something that can be captured by the iris. But something that you feel. It tickles you, slips through your fingers, gives you goosebumps, and if you close your eyes you can imagine that...you're flying.
It's so light that you can't grasp it. So wild and strong that it nearly knocks you off your feet, nearly carries you away. And if...you're not careful, you're suddenly a leaf in the wind. Dizzy, trying to clutch onto something, and so free that it almost frightens you.
Because you've never been this free before. And now that you are, you don't know what to do with yourself. So you laugh. You laugh hysterically. And then you cry like you've never cried before.
Because there are pieces, moments, that bring you so much joy and sadness and confusion and bliss that your emotions never rest. Never slow down. And you can't ever EVER seem to catch up to them.
And eventually, you'll stop trying. Because there will be a hand that, fingers that curl and intertwine with your own, that lead you along on a slower pace. And you might slip, trip, stumble, tumble, fall.
You might land on a thorn here. And you might find a bridge to cross there. But that hand holding yours will be there, slipping, tripping, stumbling, tumbling, falling right along with you.
Because they have also been possessed by the phantom. They have also been blown away by the wind. And they're just as delightedly terrified of this new freedom.
And because they mean it with their entire being when they say, in spite of all odds, expectations and obstacles,
"I love you too.
· Fri May 23, 2014 @ 11:46am · 0 Comments