Monday, June 29, 2009

In a world of Black and White she was the only one in colour

The initial feelings associated with love were almost like an ocean wave in their intensity, acting as the magnetic force that drew two people together. I can say it was possible to be washed away in the emotion, but the wave wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t – nor was it meant to be – but if two people were right for each other, a truer kind of love could last forever in its wake. In the end, it’s would work out because we both want it to. As long as we have that, we make it through anything. Today was the outcome of making it through anything, and everything. Hatered, heartbreak, betrayal, seperate lives, ambitions and dreams. We sat there, phones off, the world surrounding us in a way that romantic writers paint inside their minds. The gentle movement between us was subtle and intense, only in the way we could convey and undeniably create without any effort. As the game of back and forth continued there was a still amongst this. She slowly looked up and smiled, she took my hand, and bit her bottom lip gently. I looked down at her little hand and grinned, as she tried to hide her petite fingers away so i couldn't see the frustrated attacks her fingernails had experienced. She looked in to my eyes and asked me what I was thinking about. I answered with confidence, like a marksman taking aim for a sure shot.

'You' i said with a crackling voice showing her signs of my fear for the cliche's response. She seemed to believe me, she held my hand tighter and said it. When she finally said it, all the terrible parts suddenly went away – all the frustration and anger and fear that both of us were experiencing or had experienced. I remember how excited I was – you can’t even begin to imagine it. I wanted to hear it over and over. She told me that even after all we had gone through and however many trials and tribulations we faced we were still as passionate as we were that first day way back when.

There are imperfections in every beautiful work of art. Cracks in the paint, chips in the corner or even a smudged section where it was evident that it was not intended. The cracks in this picture emerged slowly but surely. Thinking back, from that first day, she was messaging her friend on the way home. I wonder if it was her or him. I remember days later she was excited to hear from the same friend, who was studying architecture at University and later went on to being one of my least confident fans in the parade of this love and in the life of this passion. I always assured myself that i was jealous because i was so into her, and how much she meant to me. The reality was i was too scared to lose her again. The pain, although horrific, was something i shut out and never let anyone near the first time we seperated. Even though i was breaking and falling apart when i first lost her, i dwelled in the pain and enjoyed feeling it, because i knew soon it would fade, and all i would have was a memory of a feeling. I wasnt ready to let go of any feeling, even if at the time it was loss, it was still ours, and it was all i had left.

This first date ended with the worlds most amazing kiss. I still have the kiss. Its kept in a little box under my bed, i call the kiss "Change". The reason for the name was due to the song i wrote about this change in my life. In this song i escape to the sunshine of that day and forget about the rain. I never remember performing it, because i escape the crowd when i speak these words, i return to our world. Im only visiting, and im only watching it like an old black and white film. A place where the rules do not apply. A world i am the real me. Now i apply the mask back on to face the world and offer the plan B version of me. To everyone.

The week following after speaking alot, spending time together eating at Burger King (BLT) and going on little journeys we spent our first night together since we were 16 and 17 years old. This was our first night as adults. The moments in that night were unique and opened up my eyes as we shared so much. The details of that nightfeel like a surreal mystery, which made me realise that in a world of black and white she is the only one in colour...that night we became more....


" The hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let go. At least I thought it was. But in every girl I met in the next few years, I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got too strong I'd write her another letter. But I never sent them, in fear of what I might find. By then, you'd gone on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I wanted to remember us like we were that summer. I didn’t want to ever forget that." ~ The Notebook

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