Sunday, April 28, 2013

The house

Not quite 30,  I've gained both a rheumatologist and a realtor in the past year
Both titles seem so adult when I say them aloud
Today I sit and wait for the call about the house
I've always imagined this moment to be something that I'd share with my closest friend, the father of my children, my soulmate. He'd look into my eyes and say something like "I can't wait until we have this little place to call our own."
But instead I send my brother a text and then I leave a voicemail for my best friend (who's probably sleeping in to the sounds of the ocean).
Last week we saw Beyond the Pines and there's a line where the handsome guy tells the beautiful girl "I want to take care of you." And it's taken me 30 years to realize that things like that only happen in the movies.
So I sit quietly in the coffee shop and wait for the call
I concentrate on not letting my dreams get ahead of me

"You can make a plan

Carve it into stone

Like a feather falling

It is still unknown

Until the clock speaks up

Says it's time to go

You can choose the high

Or the lower road
You might clench your fist
You might fork your tongue
As you curse or praise
All the things you've done
And the faders move
And the music dies
As we pass over
On the arc of time

So you nurse your love like a wounded dove 

In the covered cage of night

Every star is crossed by frenetic thoughts 

That separate and then collide

And they twist like sheets until you fall asleep 

Then they finally unwind

It's a black balloon 
It's a dream you'll soon deny"

- CO 

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