This is a made up story about a boy who loved a girl who grew up to be a man who loved a woman. Sadly for him, she unlearned to love him back. It started out innocently enough. It was supposed to end differently. But I digress, let's begin at the beginning.
When he was a boy he thought as a boy. When he felt something, wanted something, desired anything, he made his intentions known. He was impulsive, daring, unafraid. And she loved that about him immensely. He took risks. He reached high and low. He believed the impossible and his place in it. She ate this up. She was completely hypnotized by his desire to soar and she wanted nothing more than to be his wingman. Where he went, she would go. Where he rested, she would rest also. So she intended.
It went on like this for some many years. She poured herself into him, filled to the brim with his ecstasy. He loved her hard. She loved him even harder. Over time their love came easy to him. He thought he knew her. His routine of loving her was cast into cruise control, set in a gear that required little adjustment. Or so he thought. And this my readers is where our made up story takes its turn.
She as it turns out was miserable. Not what you might call unhappy as much as you would unrealized. While his gears were set, her gears yearned for adjustments. Really she just needed to be checked on. Over the years their love had played out in the center of the room. It was on review, on stage, on display, on purpose. Always lifting the veil for the benefit of others; children, neighbors, family, friends, coworkers. It had not grown into a for "sure" kind of love but a for "show" kind of love. The worst kind. All because he kept her out of his corners. The corners away from the stage. Corners where she wanted so much to grow with him. To be warmed by him. To be alone with him.
She knew that if she could just get him talking to her. Responding to her away from the center of the room. Too much distraction there. But he was immovable. He saw no need to go around fixing things that need no fixing. They just stood there staring at one another. He had the broadest most happy smile on his face. Why shouldn't he? He is completely head over heels in love with his woman. Their relationships was safe.
Exactly 3 days later, she walked off stage. She was thoughtful enough to leave him a note.
It read simply, you invited me along when you soared. I sat sidesaddle without complaint. I was there when you built this stage and designed this dance floor. And when it required me to I danced, posed, and spoke sensationally of you.
I left because I was only able to connect with you on your stage. Yet you were never in any of my corners.
This was just a made up story about a boy who grew up to love a woman.
When he was a boy he thought as a boy. When he felt something, wanted something, desired anything, he made his intentions known. He was impulsive, daring, unafraid. And she loved that about him immensely. He took risks. He reached high and low. He believed the impossible and his place in it. She ate this up. She was completely hypnotized by his desire to soar and she wanted nothing more than to be his wingman. Where he went, she would go. Where he rested, she would rest also. So she intended.
It went on like this for some many years. She poured herself into him, filled to the brim with his ecstasy. He loved her hard. She loved him even harder. Over time their love came easy to him. He thought he knew her. His routine of loving her was cast into cruise control, set in a gear that required little adjustment. Or so he thought. And this my readers is where our made up story takes its turn.
She as it turns out was miserable. Not what you might call unhappy as much as you would unrealized. While his gears were set, her gears yearned for adjustments. Really she just needed to be checked on. Over the years their love had played out in the center of the room. It was on review, on stage, on display, on purpose. Always lifting the veil for the benefit of others; children, neighbors, family, friends, coworkers. It had not grown into a for "sure" kind of love but a for "show" kind of love. The worst kind. All because he kept her out of his corners. The corners away from the stage. Corners where she wanted so much to grow with him. To be warmed by him. To be alone with him.
She knew that if she could just get him talking to her. Responding to her away from the center of the room. Too much distraction there. But he was immovable. He saw no need to go around fixing things that need no fixing. They just stood there staring at one another. He had the broadest most happy smile on his face. Why shouldn't he? He is completely head over heels in love with his woman. Their relationships was safe.
Exactly 3 days later, she walked off stage. She was thoughtful enough to leave him a note.
It read simply, you invited me along when you soared. I sat sidesaddle without complaint. I was there when you built this stage and designed this dance floor. And when it required me to I danced, posed, and spoke sensationally of you.
I left because I was only able to connect with you on your stage. Yet you were never in any of my corners.
This was just a made up story about a boy who grew up to love a woman.
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