A Story of Love & Hope

Today the sun shines and makes everything look golden. If you could not hear the wind you would think that spring had come and that all was well in the world. But the wind howls and bellows at my window. It tells me the truth.

And this day, it makes me think of me, and of you. We too, look as though we shine. This day could make us believe that we are in the spring of love despite the cold, jagged wind. How tricky this day is. It deceives us with warmth yet strips us to the bareness beneath all our layers. It asks us to smile but lays a heavy hand upon our hearts. It gives us hope yet promises us nothing.

So what can we believe in today? For the day is both pregnant with possibility and empty with despair. Should we assign ourselves to contemplation or stomp out thought and feeling? Perhaps we could just laugh and cry at the same time. Which one would you choose? Would you choose to laugh while I cried? You know how I hate tears on a sunny day.

Ask me to love you. Ask me. Make me believe in the unbelievable. Tell me how nice, how lovely, it will all be. Let me imagine the smell of a baby's hair while it suckles at my breast. Let us be surrounded by the invisible walls of our fancy new home. Tell me again how we'll dance in the streets of Havana with me in a red dress and you in a Panama hat. Let's play that game where I'm the only one you truly love and you're the man from the candy store of my dreams.

And while we're at it, let's drink until our stream of memories runs clear. Let's smoke out all our old ghosts. Let's fog up our lenses so we don't see the mess before our eyes or the one we'll leave behind. Let's forget the worlds we came from and the one we now belong to. Let's live on the fluffiness of clouds and fun times at the zoo. Who cares how close we came or how far we still have to go? We'll pretend how important this all is and how we're building a better tomorrow.

And I'll pretend it doesn't hurt how oft our paths don't cross. I'll open up and shut down like a pressure valve or a rare exotic flower. And you'll say how it's all normal and I'll begin to doubt myself. I'll accept everything about you as though I, of my own self were not enough. And I'll live for days on your kisses and a few softly spoken words.
So this is how the story ends before it even began: with two lovers mismatched by an evil god who wanted but to laugh. He gave them beauty, he gave them fire. And then he gave them the most dangerous thing of all. He gave them hope.

Lotus75