I can't remember our last kiss, which is a blessing. I know that in our last months my body shivered cold at your touch, repulsed knowing it was not true to me. It knew what my hoping heart refused to realise, what my eyes closed blind to see. And years on, nemesis forgiven, chambers reduced and repaired, I am happy I can't remember our last kiss.
How dare you wear my expired sentiments on your sleeve to this very day. How dare I be more sentimental than $49.95 worth of silver and paint. I dare not. I care not.
On that fifth of November, we had a witness. He was my thirtytwo.
thirtytwo/ you're the truest gentleman I have ever accidentally stumbled on a date with. You are the embodiment of everything a girl (like me) would "check box", but turn away from because she
stupidly expected a "spark." Why are we like that? Why was/am/was/am I like that? You admitted to witnessing the moment of my heartache and rushed in; I stubbornly protested to a saviour. With hindsight and awkwardness past, I see the sweetness of your chivalry. I apologies I could not be your Eve, but I hope you've found your bliss. My collection will never match yours, but I received my first Mont Blanc pen, from the boy I loved in your place.
For Nina, we could've had it all.
My alpha to be my forever.
We were level, heart and mind
Before our souls orientated this world.
I say this world like there's another!
But I could have sworn, my love,
In another world we would be blissful
Dreams carried through,
Glossamer touches of truth run from my eyes
And this world shatters love,
My love.
2 % flawed:
Now to your thirytwo (is that #32 in terms of boys/men in your life?). Your feelings and experience with thirytwo resemblance too closely to a certain someone in my life (you know who I'm talking about :P)
Indeed why are we stupid girls the way we are? Our minds advise us to take the safe option which will undoubtedly (?questionable) make us happy, whereas our hearts still dares to hope against hope for that giddy rush. To feel that once again if only for a few moments in time. Is that too much to ask? Am I getting too old, too sensible for that? Not yet, I'm determined. Ask me again next year.
My heart melted at 'I received my first Mont Blanc pen, from the boy I loved in your place'. Beautiful.
We could've have had it all indeed. Rolling in the deep. Everytime I hear that song, I think of past LVR, what we had, what we could have been. The dreams that never eventuated. The promise of a perfect tomorrow together.
Arggh my previous comment did not post!! Let me recap.
It's significant that you can remember the date of the last kiss.
Reading that made me want to cry, filled me with a stilling melancholy.
Reminded me of my final kiss with my LVR, the last of the many last bittersweet kisses. I can't recall the date but I remember the enforced passion, trying to capture the magic of years past but at the same time feeling hollow. Too much had changed, too much faith lost. But wishing it was different.
Now clarify for me, the paragraph about not being more sentimental than the pin/brooch? that he wears. You want to be sentimental but dare not?
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