Line

Was there ever a line? If there was, I crossed it, long, long ago. I'm so far beyond that when I turn around to look at the point where I started I see only a speck of vanity, a trail of ignorance, but above all, I see innocence. I'm lax. But when it comes to you, I don't let go. I knew you. I know you. You seem so close. Close enough that when I breathe, your scent catches me off guard. I inhale and it's like a rush of that breeze I can't see, I can't control, but it still chills me, still makes its presence felt, in a way that it makes me stop and think even amidst the flurry of colorless chores, faceless faces and hands that touch but don't leave fingerprints.

One of those days that I don't think about it, the breeze is even stronger in its intensity. You hit me hardest when I don't expect it. I've been walking in the desert for too long. So much so that when I spot that pool of water, I don't look left or right. I dive. You're beautiful. But only to me. Black, black, black, white. I zoom into you, as soon as I see you. No. Somehow, as soon as I sense you. 

It's not a war, I want them to know. I actually don't even care anymore. Because they'll think, think and think, but towards the end of it all, I'll still love you. And with so much pain that it's almost physically evident now. With so much intensity, with so much concentration that someday my love will be tangible. Something you/they won't be able to erase. 

You're the more comfortable choice. You're patient. You're important. You're love with a whole new meaning. Sometimes I can't even tell the difference. There's nothing that's not right when I'm with you. I love you too much to be unfair to you. It's not that I'm crazy. I'm a happy person with you. There's only an unhappy part of me, and it's growing restless. I miss non-conformity, but then again, how much do I know of it? This is probably the closest I've ever gotten. My eyes say a lot don't they. They always give me away. I don't want to involve, but someone, somewhere, has entirely different plans for me. What do I really want? That's immaterial. I could want to sleep on a cloud, I could want to hold a star, I could want to start over, I could want to just pause and feel what I'm feeling for as long as I'm feeling. I could want to stop breathing. That way, at least one sense of mine could be numbed toward all yours.