They say that holding onto anger is no good. It burns you.
But what do they say about holding back love?
Numbers are mostly exact. A three is a three, and a four is a four. Variables like X and Y can give you a headache, but with effort, you can work out the value for each. But what about "Enough"? What is its value? How do you know when you're "Enough" for others, "Enough" for yourself? Ever ask the question, "Am I enough?" While this confuses the hell out of me, I still can say that you are enough for me. And the value? You are priceless, my friend. You are a unique, wonderful human being with a heart and soul. Love is a lot like rain. It can be gentle, soothing, heavenly, and healing, or it can be a storm. The right amount can make the flowers grow, the literal ones out your window, or the figurative ones in your heart. I guess, like all things, it can be wonderful or terrible... But friends, the difference is there can never be too much. You are priceless, priceless to me, my love. Now, if only I could be enough. What would I do? What would I give if I could make it so? Anything of the former, everything for the latter. I would steal every star from the sky, every grain of sand from every beach, If only I could, if only I could be enough. What am I to do? What am I to do now that I love you? How can I make my heart listen to reason? How can I find the off switch for these feelings I have for you? What am I to do? What must I do? There are some visions I wonder if I would be better off blind to. Within the walls of loneliness, which is the greater prison? The one with windows? The one without? Is it better not to hope, wish or dream? Which vision could a heart and soul survive? That of the void, of beauty beyond the cosmic horizon that makes the heart long for more? When is it better not to see? I see all I could have ever dreamed of right before my eyes. I say again, what am I going to do now that I love you? I guess all I that can do, just sit here and cry. I wanted the rain but not the storm, for the rain brought tranquility, and the storm did not. Illusion, delusion, confusion, disillusion. No water in the well, a portrait of hell, this void across time, fall, falling, fell. And here I am in this place again, where I find myself now and then. Love me, love me, Universe, Please, of presence, realness, and humanity. I'm crawling across a desert blindly, No invisible dream can save me. There is nothing but here, now, I, and a few ghosts of the past. No quenching water, no reassuring realness, nothing to relate or sate this starving heart. And I must again wander for a time to find myself again. It could be a thousand voices, but each would be me. I speak differently when I feel differently. Sometimes, my mind has the floor. Sometimes, my heart takes the stand. Through it all is this underlying love. I could be a million places, but there it is, always in your presence. It seems it prefers your company to mine. Dear lady of the crystal ball, can you tell me my future, this solitary question, will you be there? Do you have the power to read my mind and see my heart, to read those words written there in the ancient language, "I love you?" And can you see with my eyes the beauty that I see? And could I see the same in your own, holding me close, never alone? I stand here waiting for eternity, a solitary penny to be found on the ground at your feet, waiting to be claimed? All that I have and all that I own.. Waiting, waiting to be yours. Pick me up. please? What is meant and not meant, I suppose it matters to some extent. Why, oh, why in this supposedly grandly designed world is there no such thing as displaced love and affection? Displaced, but I wouldn't say misplaced because I need it so much. Love is a hell of a thing, you know? I think that no matter how words may or may not affect you, they seem to have a lot more power, pack one hell of a punch, when spoken by someone you love. Yeah, as the saying goes, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." Well, that depends on who says them. If I don't like the person, then it's "You too, buddy! Go to Hades and tell the Baelz that he's slacking on the deal making." If I don't know the person, it depends on circumstance and whether I feel they might have a point. Now it's when words are spoken by someone I love that they can really carry some weight and pack a punch. Compliments send me to the stratosphere, and hurtful things kinda hit harder. Soooo. Can your words hurt me? Well, that depends on who you are and how I feel about you. As in the PSAs they had on Saturday mornings, ------The more ya know. Some days, I fly high, soaring to the horizon, Major Tom, Cosmic Wie, Buzz Lightyear, to infinity and beyond. Some days, I find myself flying on the ground like Buffalo Springfield. Some days, I am falling with style. And yes, there are days I find myself crashing to the ground like Wile E Coyote. What's more is I can never tell which it's gonna be until it happens. It's not like I want to be like Icarus and fly too close to the sun. I just need a little bit of light, and maybe that little mirage called hope. It always carries me through to another day. I have no right to be jealous, but I am. I have no logical reason to love you, but I do. Where is the off switch for these feelings? Damn, I wish I were a robot. I wish I were a cold, calculating machine that is incapable of falling in love. Damn it. What am I to do now that I love you? What am I to do?
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