As Jill and I chatted about earlier on the sun soaked and wind swept beach, wasn't this quarter supposed to be better than last? Wasn't all that crap supposed to be left back in the winter, and the doors opening on spring would be crap free?
All the good thoughts in the world don't add up to what we always want, though.
It's further details opening up wounds that had just healed. It's stories like this. It's sleeplessness. It's noise when quiet is needed. It's silence when words are neccessary. It's absence. It's promises that mean nothing. It's broken harmonies. It's heavy sighs. It's regrets. It's wanting to love. It's too much with no acknowledgement.
The deepest part of You is where I want to stay
And feel the sharpest edges wash away.
But when I close my eyes, and feel You rushing by,
I know that time brings change, and change takes time.
I can't right now. I'm not sure if you understand that.
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