Sentimental
Originally Uploaded here by lolade
Today I saw my favourite opera, at least of those I've seen performed. It had everything that opera should have, love, comedy, wonderful crowd scenes, and an unrelentingly tragic ending. Like life, full and beautiful, made even moreso due to its ending. It makes me feel romantic.
I feel like I was a different person when I was with you, like that person is now deceased and I have inherited my life from a dead man. I cannot hate you, as you are far too good of a person to deserve my hate. However, in some senses it comes close. I wish you the best, even though I still wish to never see you again.
I saw you walking along, a slim possibility dressed impeccably, and you missed me, perhaps because of how I naturally move when not paying attention: gracefully and noiselessly, even though I do not mean to bring to mind the motion of the undead. In your hands was a lad, curly haired and dressed to match, and you smiled, uncertainly, like someone in love. You have always seemed like a nice person, I hope its working out for you.
I see you in the silhouettes of strangers, and I still cannot breathe at the thought of you. You were the most, the one who commanded most of my heart and soul, even though that was the problem in the end. Now, while that might be fiction, the romances of the speed and depth of rivers that mark the borders of great nations tend to linger even if their truth resides now only in tale.
I'm happy.
Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: The Cure - Friday I'm In Love (song d/l)
Currently Reading: Sunshine by Robin McKinley