Ideally you would be there.
Like a shadow, but brighter.
A trace in the step, a boost of encouragement that peeked me too far over the fence. That would be you and I’d still be me in disbelief and satisfaction that sometimes strangers hearts understand each other. Sometimes the hearts that should, can’t. Sometimes becomes a word we ought to fear because it doesn’t know how to commit. But we let it. Because it’s comfortable like an old song; the lyrics that blend in to a hazy memory when exhaustion took over and I laughed so hard I cried. I laughed so hard someone noticed. No one notices things anymore. This isn’t a comeback. It’s a ramble of a night where I let everything that had come together fall apart. It’s okay to do that, you know. Moments are momentary for a reason.
the length of waves 