Because there is something about me. Something that forces you to take a breath just so you can hold it for a while; something in the scrunching of faces and the wringing of hands and the anxious pacing. Little things—impersonal. Something weird and unusual and vague. Something that makes you smile and laugh, come alive just a little bit. Something that makes you frown and sigh, then pull away because you’ve had enough.
Because there is something about her. In the way she dances as she walks down the street, in the sudden whipping of head and the small smile. Something that makes you look again, one last time, just to ensure you commit it all to memory; something to look back on when you’re 70 and marvel at. Something in the lowering of lashes and the confident statements. Something you try to hold on to, but forget a few minutes later.
Because there’s something about him. Something in the widening of eyes and the quiet, challenging tone; in the tapping of feet and the grasping of hands. Something about the firm convictions and the distracted ramblings. Something that overwhelms you with the need to hold it close–closer–as close as you can.
Because there’s something about you. Something in the eyes and the wind through your hair; in the flicking of wrists and the lines of your palm. Something in the wrinkles: the evidence of past laughter and the years you’ve witnessed.
And there’s something about her. And him—and that one too. Something in the mundane, in the everyday. Something strangers notice and don’t at the same time.
There’s something about it all–something beautiful and pretty and idealistic.
Something tragic about how it’s forgotten all too soon—or worse, never noticed to begin with.
P.S Today was just so incredibly wonderful. I actually painted. It’s been so long and its the first time in so many weeks that I’ve felt like myself. I thought I should perhaps write a different post about it, but then nah. Anyway here’s what I spent the afternoon doing:
So I did sort of play it fast and loose with the paint. I’m afraid I’ve absolutely ruined it. Oh well. It was fun, though. It was a nice day.