SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Friday, Jul. 18, 2008 @ 9:53 pm
Dan



To meet someone, someone so like you, that something quickens within you when you look into their eyes. And then, to understand that they are untouchable.

She knows it, too. She can't stand us talking, or not talking. She cuts in; there's tension. I can see how they are at home, their new home.

She talks about her necklace, vintage forget-me-not seal pressed into silver, from him. Of course, from him. Predictably, I am envious.

I know now that when you feel that surging chemistry they feel it too. Undeniable wanting, to know more. I keep my eyes from his, and then finally I give in and stare. He holds it. I stop hearing my voice.

It's defeating, to meet this person too late, under impossible circumstances. It's also delicious, in an aching sort of way. I've always said that I won't tread water, but to hold my breath, to dive into the flashing green water of him, would be my drowning. The wake of mourning people behind me. But he hasn't yet thrown me a ring...

"Compared to you she's... shy."
"Is she? Or is she perfectly sure of herself?" Lake Nights on Air


Roots | Shoots