thepixelproject

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I hope the window's open.

I'm not sure why it would be. It's cold. Obviously the window won't be open... Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all...

No, who am I trying to kid? I'm just scared. I mean shit, anything could happen, and I know it. I'm really scared. Expectations, declared or otherwise, are killing me. And it's the middle of the night for Christ's sake - fucking holiday traffic. Just try and get a grip.

Besides, I'm here. This is it, there's no going back. I know I couldn't anyway. Wouldn't, really. I'm just nervous, but deep down I know it's going to be fine. Just try and figure out which window it is...

But what if I do find it? Do I just knock? This whole idea seems crazy...

No, hold on... There's a light. Soft shadows. Could it be? No, no - it couldn't be that easy.. could it? I wish I smoked right now - I'd better just hold on a second. Doubts, more doubts...

I guess I should have expected you to be up anyway. I'm knocking. On the front door.



After I catch my breath. In a minute.



But instead it opens on it's own will. Or rather, the will you're imposing on it.

Your beautiful, fantastic, breathtaking will.

You must have saw me. Well, not me, obviously, but something. And now you're here. And I'm here.



We're here.



I can hardly stand it. And I knew I was coming.



If opposing convoys of gasoline tankers and gunpowder transporters decided at this moment to suddenly collide in your front yard - your beautiful, fantastic, breathtaking front yard - they would not stand a chance against your eyes for owning my attention.


And I knew. But I didn't, really. I couldn't have.



Until now. Now I know. It's so obvious...


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