2002-03-03 - 11:58 PM
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I live in the background of everything you know - I'm like the guy flipping through the dailies and sipping up a mug, behind the foreground of every diner scene in a movie. I'm the guy you don't know in this film - the story left untold - and the guy who has nothing to look forward to, but the headlines of the next day. And I know you've seen me, morning after morning, with a plate of scrambled sunshine, and perhaps a donut, or a bagel, or a muffin. Who knows? And more importantly, who cares? I'm pretty sure that you don't. You let the movie just roll on, and you watch it - viewing only the things that's laid out before you, like a bright picnic blanket you can't even begin to ignore. You think you know me, you think you've got it straight - but you really don't. You think I'm fine, you think I'm well-off - but I'm not. You think I love it where I am, you think it's my job - but let me tell you, that it isn't. And what probably hurts the most, is that you think I'm an extra; well, I know I'm a necessity.
And I hate being in the background.
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If it gets too late, it won't even matter. I'll wait up. Don't worry. The bags under my eyes only hold in the tears. And these are the tears I get, when I finally hear your voice - could be of sadness, but most likely, it should be of joy.
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Life's in slow-mo playback - things seem like I've been going round in circles, like I'm stuck in a revolving door - and I forgot the place closed.
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You don't need to say "Goodbye" all the time. I mean, it never is when it comes to you.
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Some people get on their knees to look for something. Some people get on their knees to pray. Some people get on their knees to crawl back. Some people get on their knees to beg. Some people get on their knees as punishment. And when it comes down to it, when it comes down to you, I add to each one of those "some people". I looked for you, prayed for you - messed up - crawled back to you, begged you - and ended up living on my knees, to pay for what you didn't deserve. I'm sorry for it all - and I hope this cycle isn't on repeat. Maybe I should get on my knees and pray for that.
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I need to believe in fate. I need to believe in an undying hope. I need to believe you'll love me, the way I love you. Because, right now, the only thing I believe in, is that I'll meet you soon.
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I will be at your bedside, adorning your nightstand with daisies and tulips. I'll be over with orange juice and some hearty chicken soup for that soul - bringing along the company of a romantic comedy, and the underestimated happiness of a board game. I'll wait on you hand and foot, get you anything you need, and bundle you up to keep you warm, like secrets in the palms of childhood sweethearts. And I'm not even sure if you have a fever. But I'll tell you something; I'm pretty sure I do.
...
Two lips rose to the occasion, and made a daisy of one, and another's son, flower into bleeding hearts.
