Its easy to forget why you ever met. Its easy to forget what you used to think and feel like everyday when you first met. Its easy, after a year, two years, ten? Whenever it happens, oh but it does eventually.
I used to call it the three year jinx, until I realised it wasnt “the” time but simply “a” matter OF time, before the ego cant tell the difference between a battle and that strange feeling that used to feel like love, anymore.
I don’t know when that moment of crossover happens. From something beautiful, something butterfly and everything you’ve always been waiting for, into something you need to talk to someone about, maybe a few second and third opinions fastened with rigorous one sided nods.
Wasn’t there a time when nothing anybody said mattered? When your heart and this person joyfully followed the light lit by your wonderfully glowing hearts is all that mattered. I don’t know when that moment of crossover happens.
Maybe if you lay down in bed, beside your once everything, your reason to live and die, maybe if you just lay down and play it all backwards you’d spot that moment when it all changed. Some argument that cheesed you off was it? Promises unkept? What was it?
Love always drifts. Life is really long for all the illusion of shortness it throws at you, and sometimes in that swiftly moving shortness, you might just find that somebody for that long cruise.
And between the fear of losing it all, to the storm of death, to disease, and to troubles, life really happens. Like…it really does.
Sure, love drifts because too many things happen. Sometimes they truly aren’t the ones. Sometimes things go too far. But that’s not the love we’re talking about are we?
Sometimes, you find that person, and then you forget. That one true blue love. That feeling of home and magic. That “I’d do anythin for love” kinda love. The kind that Ella Fitzgerald was talking about with the bubbling saxaphone, the drunk piano and the surfing Ella sweeping the room with summer and rain and gardens at the same time. So before you give it all up for another fading rush of experiences, just lay down quietly beside them, and listen to all those songs that made you jump up in gratitude for having found someone who GETS your music. What happensd to ths music? What happened to YOU? Watch them sleeping beside you. If disgust is not your first reaction to all this, then maybe you could drop it. Just drop it All. They”re just as imperfect as you. Just as scared and just as tired of all the drama. So drop it. Fuck that ego, show it to your boss but drop it here, on your bed, in your home and hold on to that drifting love. Fuck that ego. And truly, from that greasy cholestorol filled heart, let it go. The expectation, and the pride. Go back to treating them as the flawless creation of the universe you used to make them feel they were. And maybe not today and not tomorrow or a week from now. But sometime. And sometime soon the heart will relent.
Yes. Love always drifts. But that doesn’t mean you have to let it go.