25 October 2009 11:04 PM
The piece that was missing
If you asked me, or anybody for that matter, I'd say I'd always have a soft spot for you, a special place. A priority, a plateau to put you up ahead of everyone else, up against the stars if must be. But there's a constant, real time fear that eventually, you'd lose that sparkle, not as a person but as a significance to me.
If I got used to you, to loving you and having you there, then maybe you'd fall back down, or everyone else catches up, dimming you. You'd always be special, in a sense that I need the gentle reminder, because I guess even the best gold gets dull lest polished. I fear forgetting, to overlook and to take for granted.
I have a disappointing history of breaking hearts; the closer you are the harder the hit, and the lack of patience for commitment, because with it comes a sense of restriction and strain. Its the biggest fear, because subconciously we know its going to happen again, just a matter of time and place.
I just keep hoping for never.
You buy things and you keep them clean. You take care of them. Keep them in a special pocket. Away from keys and coins. Away from other things that should be kept clean and taken care of as well. Then they get scratched. And scratched again. And again. And again. And again. Soon, you don't care about them anymore. You don't keep them in a special pocket. You throw them in the bag with everything else. They've surpassed their form and become nothing but function. People are like that. You meet them and keep them clean. In a special pocket. And then you start to scratch them. Not on purpose. Sometimes you just drop them by accident or forget which pocket they're in. But after the first scratch, it's all downhill from there. You see past their form. They become function. They are a purpose. Only their essence remains.
If you asked me, or anybody for that matter, I'd say I'd always have a soft spot for you, a special place. A priority, a plateau to put you up ahead of everyone else, up against the stars if must be. But there's a constant, real time fear that eventually, you'd lose that sparkle, not as a person but as a significance to me.
If I got used to you, to loving you and having you there, then maybe you'd fall back down, or everyone else catches up, dimming you. You'd always be special, in a sense that I need the gentle reminder, because I guess even the best gold gets dull lest polished. I fear forgetting, to overlook and to take for granted.
I have a disappointing history of breaking hearts; the closer you are the harder the hit, and the lack of patience for commitment, because with it comes a sense of restriction and strain. Its the biggest fear, because subconciously we know its going to happen again, just a matter of time and place.
I just keep hoping for never.
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