#quote on tumblr
When some people look at the clock they see numbers. Others all that they must get done; the requirements they must meet. Every ticking second presents a new hoop to jump through, a new kid to pick up or chore to get done. When I look at the clock all I see is you.
The ticking hands show me every second we’ve spent together and every hour we’ve spent apart. The hands tick down tediously to your arrival. They race around the clock to mark your departure. When you are gone they are there to daunt me. When you are here they are there to taunt me. When I look at the clock I see every minute since we first met, every hour we spent together at that old diner, and ever second we sat in silence because I messed something up. The hands point forth to an age of loneliness they show me a life of minutes spent without you.
When you’re gone, every rain drop seems to drown me.
Every shadow casts an immortal darkness
Every glimmer of light seems to scald me.
When you’re gone, all the seasons happen at once and I am both hot and cold. Burning from the absence of your cool composure to soothe me. Freezing without the warmth of your smile to relieve me.
When you’re gone it is both night and day. I am a child scared to death of the darkness cowering in the corner trying to separate myself from the dark that your shining eyes used to transcend. In the daylight I struggle to steer clear of the scalding sun that used to be overshadowed by your cool and calming demeanor. Keeping me under a shadow of clear and blissful protection.
When you are here I am the blooming daisies of spring. Painting a portrait in a brisk and bright meadow. I am a Popsicle melting in the summer heat bright and sweet. A leaf painted with the pigments of fall, gently fluttering to the earth below. The first snowfall of winter crisp and refreshing. A piece of magic a mystery for the mindful eyes of a child sitting idly by the window.
When you are gone I am the thunderstorms that haunt the spring. My tears drench the daisies and leave them suffocated without light. I am the summer child left to stare at my melted ice treat. Left only to be covered in a sticky situation and scolded by my mother who told me not to indulge in sweets before settling down to dinner. An abundance of leaves coving the yard. I must be raked and hidden away. Leaving the yard immaculate. Away from the chaos of missing you. A blizzard that leaves the world hidden away under a thick sheet of ice. Cold and punishing.
When you are here, everything seems beautiful.
When you are gone, everything seems beautiful, except for me.
r.t.
“If I die young - bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn - send me away to the words of a love song.”
