adreamer
If it were up to me I'd equate the relationship that the two of you have to a warmth of your favorite, six year old sweater. The one that got you through your first break up and was there with you on the day you graduated college. The color might be fading and the zipper is completely busted, but you refuse to buy a new one cause this one is still the most comfy article of clothing you own, and honestly, if I had a relationship like that, I sure as hell wouldn't let it get ruined by something like a few hundred miles.
Let's just dive right on in, I know it's already November, but the water can't be that cold. Especially when surrounding a pair of hearts as warm and minds as open as ours. For all we know, the two of us give Luna and her dearest waves one hell of a run for their money anyway, so what are you waiting for, Baby, let's get this over with.
Don't worry Baby, you can have all these leftover metaphors, all the good ones have already been recycled anyway. Besides, you know as well as I do that no one else's voice will have the power to bring you to tears with them, the way I could, anyway.
By the way, I hope you know we were never anything more than leftovers to begin with.
As tears of joy streak down your face,
laughter bubbles from inside the deepest
spaces of your soul - I do not believe
anyone
has ever seen you this happy,
and I'm so glad I could be here
to witness it the way you are always
around
to feel the bed shake with
my squeal-like giggles, and
watch my eyes sparkle brighter
every time.
Someone says that holding a heart, especially one of someone you love, is the same as winning a prize at a carnival: incredibly painstakingly difficult, and on the off chance it's accomplished, it's bullshit luck or cheating. I wouldn't necessarily agree, but it's an interesting concept, is it not?