Maybe a lot of things are cooped up in my head because I don't have ears to share, or a heart to meld, or lips to lavish.
Maybe I make up things or see it the wrong way. It could be that life that is and life that isn't are trying to happen simultaneously and I switch tracks too much. Thinking too deep causes me to drown any way you cut it.
Listening to Trouble Will Find Me right now really jogs these dreams I've had lately. Vivid and unfair dreams. Like Roman Polanski or Martin Scorsese have left their best work in the editing room of my picture brain and it's stuck on subconscious repeat but gets better and worse for the wear. Starring me and unknown cast. I'd love to meet them one day, they seem like lovely people if they indeed exist.
Maybe when I have figured things out and after I've bought a house and do the things I want to do, I'll have a cabin in the woods somewhere deep and far, and misty woods will surround a lake, and we'll swim naked in the cloudy day. And that will be so pure. "It's ok, they're married" - Reader
Then we can drive with the windows down, and listen to our favorite songs, and your hair will smell like wilderness and that gorgeous smell I will always know you have. That linger in the morning, past sleepiness and stale breath after a night of whiskey and laughter. Nothing is perfect, but that's what makes it perfect.
And even if it rained, we could stay in the cabin, and watch the clouds climb through the mountains surrounding the lake. We could have a fire, and you could brush your hair while I read Spurgeon or Calvin, and then we'd make dinner and not even think about going back or when this would end.
But even at that point, if I've figured things out, going back wouldn't be so bad. Because we'd be the same kind of close regardless of the setting...we just like swimming naked in abandoned mountains.
But who's to know, dreams aren't real, and neither are you yet.
Just waiting for that long dark hair to reveal your smile and then I'll know.
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