You light up the instant he walks into the room. For the first five minutes, all you can do is smile and be that fabulous person that you can be. Nothing can possibly spoil the hours that pass.
You transform into this completely different person. You laugh. You glow. You watch him talk. The both of you make eye contact. Then there, the smile again.
His presence is all you need to get you through. The weight of the day becomes a lot lighter just with him around.
But as you close the door to your house, you are reminded that he is not yours. That his smile for you is indifferent. That when he listens, he does so as a friend and nothing more.
It suddenly reminds you of your days as a teenager. And for some damned reason, it feels as if nothing has changed. You are still the same old you and you are still alone. Another door shuts while you are still trying to get out.
So what if my feelings are impossible to deal with? My past does not and should not impede on the now. Let me be happy! Let me just for once enjoy liking a person. Allow me to not care about the consequences this one [very long] time.
Sure, I might make a fool out of myself but.
But.
If there is one thing that I must be, it is to be honest with myself. If I cannot even allow myself to feel what I want to feel, how can I possibly live to be all that I can be? How can I look at another person and tell them to dream the dream, to shake the world of all its falsities when I cannot even look at myself to admit what I want and to accept it for what it is.
True beauty feels, to me, like tiny bursts of glitter exploding into the air around me.
I can say no more.
Here's to a great group of eight.
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