An actual match. Not forced. Not altered. A match. Pure. Innocent. Unyielding.
Here we are dancing like stars, creating shapes like planets and opportunities like meteors. We are creators. Artists. Hopefuls.
The days pass and we are aligned in that it feels like years. Decades. Memories. Yesterday was a year ago. Yet only the hours remind us. We are happy. We are young.
Moments tell us we have an eternity left. These year-days. I have no more reasons to count.
I’ve found my stationary euphoria. Marked it. Captured it. Watching it grow, eyes wide and heart full.
I’m addicted to something I cannot even feel.
Fifty Shades of Grey
It’s having its effects. Affects. I’m affectedly effected.
I’m transcending to a place where putting the book down is a punishment. Truly, at the base of the eroticism is a romantic wanderlust. I’m there. Seeing the surface and the unwavering under layers.
Soon it will be book 2.
To say I’m currently single would be a lie. To say my expectations have swelled is an understatement.