"But: I would, too, like to remember the next day, and our talk in the water in the stream, you have had a long night of worry, you tell me—while I feel only joy and sun and slept well.
Your nervousness. You have closed, a cautious flower to the cool night. And my joy turns to sadness as sunshine makes way for rolling fog. Seeing my sadness, you tell a generously sweet, funny story. I ask: 'Did you just tell me that story to cheer me up?' It is rare for a beautiful girl to care about the heart she stabs, even as she pierces it.
Our planned dinner date is late, and short, and we do not return to the tent, or laugh, or kiss or touch, much. I say you are not responsible for my sadness, I’m a big boy, and I will give you space. 'But space can be in love, not just without it.' But you do not hear my words. They are just words. You say, 'I can’t let you in.' I would like to remember the final good-bye: 'Do what you want,' you tell me, in that voice hearts use when they have closed." ~ @waylonlewis, #thingsiwouldliketodowithyou 📕 All books signed this month: elephantjournal.com/books 📕 or click link in bio 👆⠀⠀
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