As a gently cynical pessimist, I thought it a good idea to look at the positive – and I do have quite a bit of free time on my hands, so while I work on a longer project, I decided to put up another romance piece. This is one that I would say needs some improvement (I am very rusty after all) but I posted it anyway so that I could get some feedback to improve this piece. I am not particularly looking to turn this into a series like I did last time, but for now I guess I will enjoy my own musings about the one thing that I absolutely do not need even a little bit – love.
The waves of romance are certain to erode each rock; each objection that somehow knows that love will lead one astray. I mapped out each inch of those waters and returned cold and half-drowned, swearing never to return.
Though there is a certain pleasure that comes from swimming in the oceans of someone’s eyes, this can quickly turn into a certain disaster when the waves become torrid and leave no shelter from the storm.
But perhaps there was an unwritten rule that this pen of romance would once more be lifted. Perhaps it was somehow predetermined that these hardened eyes would once more gradually melt before setting; forming alloys of mixed curiosity, desire, and wariness. Perhaps there was still an inkling of glamour still in this form that catalyzed just enough for that forgotten relic of romance to once more begin to beat, and then clamour as though there was no more importance other than the dark onyx of your eyes – eyes of contradiction that somehow forgot themselves how not to appear so special. Perhaps my heart screams for me to once more wade into the waters of romance; though I know that I shall get lost in the waves while the sky blackens, leaving only a faint glimmer of light to be followed.
Yet this spotlight of love plays tricks in the dark, for it shall distort you and dismay me and leave us grasping for each other – as though we are life rafts – and blindly trusting the sinister spotlight that wishes to drown us, we will succumb to the storm. I fear that light, for I was entranced into the ocean by it once – as the shine pierced into my eyes and enslaved me into the pursuit of something that appeared far more polished and glorified than it really was. I know that I cannot return to those times – those times when a certain word from a certain someone sent me into a certain frenzy.
And yet, your innocence does not know what it is like to be whipped and violated by the spotlight of love. Your innocence does not bear the scars from the harassment of onlookers who always look to poke and scratch at my layer of perfectly executed confidence. Your innocence does not cough water every time a special gaze or touch sends you hurtling down the cliff into the tempest below. Your innocence does not look upon the darknesses of this world with anything other than the same engaged and caressing gaze that you bestow upon me.
But you too are afraid of those waters because you’ve been told not to venture past the safety of the dock. Your innocence is somehow experienced enough to bind you to a life on land – afraid of the mysteries that lurk beyond. These mysteries never alluded me, for I welcomed the splashes before they were storms and now bear all the scars inside me. You are blind to the truth; the same truth that I had let blind me.
You see none of my scars – for somehow your innocence is blind to everything but the perfectly rehearsed words from my mouth – a somehow successful blend of humour and promises and love. Somehow, your innocence smiles upon me as though it is you who are blessed with my presence and not the opposite.
And as I see the soft shells of your delicate ears and surf on your sandy complexion, I wonder if somehow it is possible to go swimming in your soul so that the false glimmer of hope through the clouds does not lead us to drown in the water. And as your angelic laughter manages to pry another smile from my lips, I know how we can fall into the ocean of love together as we hold no obligations to anyone but each other: the promise of forever. Perhaps being blinded is not so bad after all.
For when we close our eyes, no spotlight can shipwreck us.