Nearly half way to 100 days, hello and hi-ho.
Senior year is nearing the mid way spot, my mind is nearing the ‘I’m getting tired’ point, and I’m getting surprised daily. Take this for one, She’s reading these.
I’d assumed it, but then at the same time, thoughts she’s likely too busy, has better things to do and would rather have at it there than scrolling through brief thoughts..of mine..
What does it mean?
To which comes the paradox…I know she loves me, I can feel it, and more and more it becomes more visible, but where does the cactus, the flaws, the catalyst of my choices from the past fade to oblivion? Where does a choice of her own, her accord, her narrative become okay with it?
Is it a contemptibility? Is it a burning from somewhere deep, like a growing tremble that becomes such a cacophony is it a magnanimous mass that silences the world around her?
It is love, best I can fit to what I feel that word has become for many that yearn for that, for this, it is Love.
C’est la vie
Good night and may you all have a wonderful blessed morning, may your gorgeous morning become a blessed and darling night.
Nosce Te Ipsum
Dream Dark Stories 