So there’s this boy. I’ve known him quite a while now. He says he loves me. I know I love him. It’s been a long time since I loved anyone. I still don’t want to because I know it will hurt one day. Well to be honest it hurts even now. You see I have this job. It takes me over the seas and he as this job and it does the same. But we can’t be together because our jobs take us away from each other. Soon we’ll go far away and who knows maybe never see each other again. He says that’s not true, I say how would he know? He makes me laugh and that makes me cry. I love this boy you see, the one who I may never get to see after a while. Just a short while it will seem before I must go away.
Away across the sea and across the sand and over the mountains. Then he will go away. Away across the deserts and the plains to a place far away. What shall I do about this boy? One day by luck, we may meet again. Will I love him still? Will he love me? He says he loves me. Or will it fade like so many colors left to bleach in the sun. a rainbow that has melted into the sky that created it because the light it reflected became too bright. Will I look back tomorrow and laugh and say, oh what if that boy…? Will the boy look back and wish I were still by his side, in his bed? What of tomorrow? Don’t fret he says, don’t fret….somewhere I must find the strength and the calm and the fortitude to leave tomorrow to the gods, to relinquish that over which I have no control. To find peace in loss and serenity in pain. To take joy in the now and forgive the unknown. To stare into the black of tomorrow and see the sweet, velvety seduction of the night, a lover’s friend, the eternal enemy of the stark reality of day. Sweet night, bring me a meditation upon that which I have and that which I have not yet lost. Allow me to see it is not mine and, therefore, shall not be mourned. Show me greed will beget sorrow. Show me acceptance will bring relief. One who hopes for nothing finds disappointment in nothing. Age brings its wisdoms, yet the heart is often too stubborn to learn. How shall I rip it from my chest to avoid the ache that plagues me? Time grows short to spend it upon silly dithering. A second wasted upon sorrow is the second in which I grow both older and sadder. To hope is wrong. Hope will only hurt in the end. Be done, be done and hope not. Turn my face away, toward the horizon and never look back. A pillar of salt could crystallize from the tears I have shed. Face the sun and the wind and walk away. Leave with a smile and a nod of the head. Then turn my eyes and stride away. Let the distance swallow me whole and never. look. back.
Away across the sea and across the sand and over the mountains. Then he will go away. Away across the deserts and the plains to a place far away. What shall I do about this boy? One day by luck, we may meet again. Will I love him still? Will he love me? He says he loves me. Or will it fade like so many colors left to bleach in the sun. a rainbow that has melted into the sky that created it because the light it reflected became too bright. Will I look back tomorrow and laugh and say, oh what if that boy…? Will the boy look back and wish I were still by his side, in his bed? What of tomorrow? Don’t fret he says, don’t fret….somewhere I must find the strength and the calm and the fortitude to leave tomorrow to the gods, to relinquish that over which I have no control. To find peace in loss and serenity in pain. To take joy in the now and forgive the unknown. To stare into the black of tomorrow and see the sweet, velvety seduction of the night, a lover’s friend, the eternal enemy of the stark reality of day. Sweet night, bring me a meditation upon that which I have and that which I have not yet lost. Allow me to see it is not mine and, therefore, shall not be mourned. Show me greed will beget sorrow. Show me acceptance will bring relief. One who hopes for nothing finds disappointment in nothing. Age brings its wisdoms, yet the heart is often too stubborn to learn. How shall I rip it from my chest to avoid the ache that plagues me? Time grows short to spend it upon silly dithering. A second wasted upon sorrow is the second in which I grow both older and sadder. To hope is wrong. Hope will only hurt in the end. Be done, be done and hope not. Turn my face away, toward the horizon and never look back. A pillar of salt could crystallize from the tears I have shed. Face the sun and the wind and walk away. Leave with a smile and a nod of the head. Then turn my eyes and stride away. Let the distance swallow me whole and never. look. back.
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