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I'm staring out into the night,
And trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
and feeling good don't ever cost a thing,
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.
I'm going home to the place where I belong,
where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm running from you know I think you got me all wrong,
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.

-Chris Daughtry

2:25 PM
The little words and phrases that made up a relationship*


I had a sudden, unexplainable urge to reread the archives, to smile, to laugh and to cry at the many many enteries that accompanied us throughout the 11 months a lifetime ago. Listen, 3 doors down is playing in the background now - you have to marvel at the unintended choice of music. It's been far too long, and to be honest, the images in my head are blurry, like a cheap pirated movie. That's in no way undermining the value of our relationship, of course, but it does serve to highlight the passage of time doesn't it?


I can no longer quote individual events, or use specific examples to illustrate the relationship but I do remember the perpetual excitement that consumed us and enticed us to do the silliest of things, as if we were drunk on the magic of love. The declarations of undying love, addressed mysteriously and emphasised with bolded characters in italics, underlined or with a series of exclaimation marks. The mushy letters, written in assortment of colours, and the many many afternoons spent in the security of your arms, waking up to the setting sun casting its echanting rays upon your angelic face, no less captivating asleep than awake.


It was a relationship doomed to the darkness of shadows, yet set ablazed by our fiery passions. I remember the sharp knocks upon the locked doors, the frantic search for the carelessly strewned, the muffled laughter as we desperately tried to convince them that we were asleep and not to be disturbed. I remember trying to hide the roses, the rings, and the blissful serenity of falling asleep upon the hard floor, cushioned by a thin mattress - all uneasiness eased by your warm breath upon the nape of my neck and your arms tight around my waist.


I remember the dark red, velvet curtains as they came down upon our relationship, majestic in its silence and leaving two haunted souls in its wake. I've been scarred by perfection, tormented by the inexplicable allure of its breathtaking beauty.


The power of a love long past - remarkable in its ability to create prose.


I should be nerding. (: