marlowe

And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart.

It's those humbling moments like these that make me wonder how many problems I may really have. I know that I make up a lot more to think about than I should, but it's times like these that make me want to make up more. Times when you are walking down the barren midnight streets and you have to kick away bottles with shoes that are far too large to encompass what you percieve to be feet foreign to your own... when you feel so belittled as if you are a child. You are a child walking with stranger's feet. You are a child walking in a stranger's world. When did I become so large and so lost in what I was striving for? When did these feet start walking in another direction and forget to tell me? When did I decide that I would settle for a path less than perfect and make myself be happy with it? INstead I settle for a plastic dinasour with a glowing sombrero.

I remember that friend, now on a path I cannot reach, beckoning the knight to rekindle that romance from the fairytales. It's people like her who change paths early, who gently kiss my brow and part, and who make me feel dissatisfied with mere words and plastic pieces of affection.

"There are many ways to love," and I know that. I know that phrase well. It is easy to love and hold the hand of a stranger. It is easy to provide solace in one's gaze. It is easy to play the role out until you don't know that you are going through the motions. That your heart has ceased to work and you can't let go of the past. It is easy to hold the hand of a stranger.... it is hard to hold her heart. How does one become a muse when they themselves are uninspired? When they run to the one who gives themn comfort only to find that the person has moved on... and they, in their deepest of thoughts, are left feeling guilty for wishing they had done something to hold that person back. Wishing that they had stayed.

It's easy to know that you won't look back on this time in two years. It's easy to forget the time when your shoes were too big and foreign to you and you bought tangible ones to replace the metaphorical demons in your head. You know you're already on the path to recovery and perhaps one day you will ressurect that knight that never existed. Just remember what to do when you go chasing rabbits and maybe you won't get lost in the moment. Reach out and dream. Once our dreams are dead, what have we then?

"Janie's first dream was dead. It was then that she became a woman"
I refuse to believe this.