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Contemplation
This dark room is consuming my soul completely, and I can not seem to find a pathway out of here. Dampness of the cold seeps down into the marrow of my bones; where pain seems to manifest itself. How did I get to this point of my life? Never before have had I felt this way, until I met her, was my life completely planned out. Treating women I came across became like a staple in my life. Before this love my attitude towards love was nothing short of obsolete, and I was happy with this point of view.
A man can only live a certain lifestyle for so long, and then one woman will come along to mess up his plans. She came into my life very unwillingly like a wave from the monstrous seas, only to hit you in the face. I stand here today a broken man wondering what in the hell is the point of love. We all seem to fall into that trap of either love or infatuation, and the question becomes how do differentiate the two phenomena?
So many of us search all of our lives for that one true love. Someone who will end all of our problems, by just being there when we are hurt. A love that will dry our tears when things seem too not go our way. That one true person that only tells us truths; truths about who we are in reality. I thought my partner had been found, but I was sorely mistaken by this assumption.
On a cold and bitter winter day this person, who promised me forever, left me colder than the northern winds blowing outside. Where is that I am suppose to go now? My first thought was to move on into southern California. These lands seem to offer nothing but warmth. Warm breezes from the ocean currents have been known to sooth ones’ soul. Maybe there I could become a surfer, finding myself at one with the overpowering strength of the ocean waves, like so many do everyday. Then again my longing to travel takes my mind somewhere else.
Today a rainy, humid southern afternoon sounds so peaceful. During the summer you may be able to encounter some of the most soothing rainstorms in the entire world. It would be heaven to sit on the porch of an old Victorian style house, watching the fire flies flutter about in a humid Georgian evening. I could be there right now sipping on an ice cold glass of sweet tea, and engulfing grits and okra.
However, I am brought back to reality, of a warming winter in eastern Washington. Looking out a frosted window my mind wonders back to an old familiar smile. A smile of some love that once held me at night, yet I know that is only my imagination. Eyes that once penetrated my soul like laser beams no longer exist in the real world. Instead those eyes stare into another’s with a love that once use to be mine.
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Live.....long...well...loved....and well written!
Last edited by crowe1120 : 02-18-2008 at 02:13 PM.
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i wrote some corrections below, and i think you might be missing some commas here and there.
