If you’ve ever watched a romantic comedy and cried half way through because the leading couple has split up, you know what feeling I’m talking about. You’re sad now, because this hurts, but only down to a certain point, because you hope and you believe with all your heart and soul and mind that things will work out.
I don’t know what the word for that feeling is. I doubt there is one. It’s hard to put words to any feelings more complicated than happy sad angry. That’s why I find it suspicious that there’s a word for love.
Really there shouldn’t be.
I never have the words, but I always try, because I want so bad to be able to give them to you. Gift wrapped and beautiful. I want to find the perfect phrase for the joy of being with you… the bliss of the holding… but I don’t want to leave out the anguish of the not having. Because without that anguish there’s just a sappy girl smiling at her perfect life. Life is never perfect.
People will tell you that. They’ll say there’s stress and pain and bills and death. And that’s right, but if I could spend even ten minutes every day in your arms I’d be willing to call it perfect.
For now I guess it has to be enough to know that you’re out there, but still… I’d love to have the words.