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Sunday, January 18, 2009

Sitting comfortably on my kitchen sofa, notebook humming in my lap with excellent wireless signal, house all warmed up against the cold outside, silence broken only by an occasional car on the street, my hair looking nice and shiny, chinese food in the fridge waiting for me and my feverish flu completely passed, I have nothing to dwell on but you. The deep night fails to cover me, therefore I cannot rest.

I want to go to bed and dream upon a bedtime story waiting to happen tomorrow. I want the characters to be the two of us and I want us to happily embrace the idea that we can be together and make it work this time. I want 'us'.

You may think I'm too mushy, too sugarry... but the truth is I'd tear down mountains for this. A friend of mine keeps telling me I'd step over dead bodies if they were in my way to you. And she's right.

Later edit: still can't sleep, I'm watching over your dreams from a distance. And I'm thinking that 'we' are so fragile now even a word can slay us, yet so strong to keep me awake for so many nights...

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