Someone once told me I was a walking bundle of cliches. Not a walking cliche, but a bundle of them, and I realized that I don't resent it, but I loved it. Because it helps me realize that the words I spoke but never quoted, were spoken aloud and alone by a great many people, and at least some of them felt the way I did when I said them. And in that group of people who never found each other, I was never alone. They were the perfect company, for they afforded me solitude without depriving me of company.
But I digress. This post is about the love of my life. She will be here in a month, and I hope she will be everything I wish her to be. That we could go places, places made far away by their isolation, with the wind on us, no questions, no promises. It would be touch and go. I'll tell you more about her when she gets here. And I hope she likes red.
But I digress. This post is about the love of my life. She will be here in a month, and I hope she will be everything I wish her to be. That we could go places, places made far away by their isolation, with the wind on us, no questions, no promises. It would be touch and go. I'll tell you more about her when she gets here. And I hope she likes red.
