black tears

«Just hear this and then I'll go:
You gave me more to live for,
More than you'll ever know.«

- Last Goodbye, Jeff Buckley
(because music is so conveniently misinterpretable)

You wanted something sweet. And I gave you nothing. Not because there was nothing to say but because nothing was good enough. Nothing at all seemed better than some common place overused quote from a soap. So, in the end, you didn’t get what you wanted but you got me. Hopefully, that was enough. It’d be a great screenplay, the whole thing. Maybe I’ll give it a try.
The line between sweet and awkward wears pretty thin. I’m so terribly afraid of awkwardness; I always think it’ll taint perfect moments. Usually it makes them more memorable, more real, more personal. Now there’s something I like, personal. There are so many things that I could say, but to what avail? Speak your mind and it becomes truth, sound in time, free to judge. I will not be judged. Not for this. It is mine. My little treasure. My Jerusalem.
I cannot remain unmoved. I do not. My cold cold heart has melted. I know the unknown. Life and time continue, two of 6.7 billion share a story all their own. A sole human being counts. When time has done its bidding and loss becomes forget, I will hold on to my little details. Irrelevant recollections. How I never felt as beautiful as when seen through your eyes and spoken from your voice. That in itself, a thought to exile my sins.
I tread carefully still, yet the transition from present to past has begun; idyllic memory, utopian reflection, the tools to fill the void.
A proud romantic feels intensely, perhaps disproportionately. Excess emotion is my geographic birthright. My home a fragile web, spun of instant, time and place. A single fragment left behind, the fact beyond the fiction.
Fate is too unfair a concept to believe in, my decisions are my own. With that, each one is life-altering, consequential, corollary unpredictable. I try so hard to hide my sense I risk losing it to confusion. I am inarticulate before you. Unusual but refreshing. A welcome peace of mind. I think I may have found my truest self. It certainly feels easier. What I mean to say I am not sure. That words are few but sentiment is not. That I am afraid to spoil reality by embracing my desire to think of nothing else and in writing spoil yours. That assume what you will goes on in my mind, it won’t be presumption. Yes. Here is what I have to say: it is whatever you wish it to be. You have my words and my permission to fill in the blank at goodbye with anything. Your choice becomes what happened. That shall be the truth.
Enough.