the days between...

it's interesting how people say moments shape them. i often find myself listening to stories and asking other questions.

how did the person you're telling me about become the person i see in front of me?

and often i'm led to wonder about the days between. when things become mundane, forgettable even, where do you go?

What makes you smile, brings you joy?

sometimes i don't get a story. sometimes i only get the remnants, the memories. and i'm forced to put them together alone. it's funny how the pieces get put together differently over time, as i grow in others and in myself.

it's the days between that shape us. it's the rhythms and grooves we fall into that prove us worthy or unworthy.

moments can have an effect, yes. but it's wise to count the days between. you don't get anywhere on dreams alone. steps are required. and every step just puts you closer to where you're going.

where you're going is great. and it's different from where i'm going. we can't help it. we're different, you and i. and so will our destinations be different.

i won't cry when you leave.

(okay, i might....only they won't be tears of sadness, but tears of happiness that you came in the first place.)

i'll sit down and think of you. i might sit awhile. you're certainly worth the thought.

eventually, i'll stand back up. i'll dust off my bum, smile to myself a little, and take a few more steps.

i'll secretly hope that our paths meet again. only time will tell if i get my wish.

if i do, i'll smile and laugh. and if i don't, i'll still smile and laugh. i can't help it. it's just me. and you're just you. you can't help it. just know you've touched me. my life is different because you walked through it, because you stuck around during the days between.

we've had our moments. my heart will cherish those. but it's the days between that i'll always be longing for. when we just were. there's some magic in 'just being.' that's what i'll miss of you, of us, of me.

life is a journey. you are one of my adventures. sometimes adventures are holes we unknowingly dig for ourselves. and sometimes they lift us up. just when we think we know which is which, our minds can be changed.

i'd like to think the best, that i've been lifted. but the little pessimism inside me whispers that maybe you're just a detour, not where i'm supposed to stay. but i need you, so i won't let go.

maybe you're a drug, an addiction i can't break from. maybe i'm just fascinated by your wit, your body, your charm. perhaps i'm trapped and can't get out. i won't tell. and if i do, i have a feeling you won't hear. i'm okay with that. i promise.

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