And so the story goes about a little girl falling for a boy with a bad side.
That everything would happen for a reason.

But she didn't want to listen to it all.
She wanted to feel that sense of freedom.
That sense of feeling like SHE was in the spotlight on the dance floor.
With all eyes on her.

Just for that one moment...

She felt like she could love someone else more than she could love him.
That this love wasn't anything compared to what would happen next.
At any given time.
Any given place.
That she would meet someone.
And the magic would never die.
Even though this love taught her many lessons...
She felt as though she would find a love where she felt more appreciated.
Where you finally understand it.
That you feel fulfillment in life.
That you could live forever.
With no fear and only happiness.

Why is it when something bad happens do I always want to write about it?
Writing about happiness makes me feel sappy.
But once there is a problem...
I put pen to paper.
I see.
I think.
I feel...

I feel that imagination.
That sense of power.
That freedom.


And in those times of silence...
When neither one of us has anything to say...
My mind wanders further and further away.

Deep inside my soul.
Searching for that feeling again.

It was a lonely day.
Cold and bitter.

Her hair covered her shoulders like a light sweater.
Her breath was almost visible.

The seasons were changing...
And so was she.

I saw something beautiful.
Your eyes would not look.

I heard something inspiring.
You wouldn't listen.

I wanted to share with you...
What I saw.
What I heard.
What I felt.

But as much as I tried to get your attention.
To get your eyes to see the beauty in what I was giving you...

You looked away.
You can still hear.
But you don't want to listen.

You can still feel.
But you don't want to touch.

I want to be on your mind...
Like the errands you are supposed to run.
And like the lyrics you write.

The water is cold now...
But I still slither into it.

Life seems to be overwhelming.
With the littlest things I cannot seem to get over.

The scenery is changing...
My mirror tells me I am too.

I cannot move forward.
Blocking my path is...

Myself.

With that self realization I hope I can learn...
Hopefully.

If the sky were to fall down on us...
I would stand there waiting with open arms.

The rain can only wash away the dirt on our faces.

Sins.
Regrets.
Guilt.

All the things I wish my mind would stop speaking of.
Insomnia sets in.

The past visits me often.
But it is never a pleasant time.

I wish the rain would wash away our sins...
The regret we still feel from so long ago.
Like the conversations I wish I would have had...
The friends I should have kept.
Pictures I could have taken.
And the guilt of never taking action when I should have.


If only the rain could wash everything away.