novel

Thursday March 27, 2008

I hope you understand my wayward smile as I think of you. For some strange reason, I am so intensely drawn to you and I do not understand. Things happen to me, you see. Serendipitous suddens. My friend said it's because I have such a powerful spirit that it influences so many things around me. Songs that remind me of you come on the radio when you leave me. Coincidences preceded by thoughts and secret wishes. They always catch me off guard. You are one of those.
Those who have the beauty and passion when you speak and you have the same coincidence hanging above your bed. I wonder if you recognize it as funny, because I do.
Why am I so drawn to you? I have met you once and you loved another girl. You held her hand whilst I acted like the most amazing person I could in hopes you would notice. I think you did, but I won't bet on it. I never bet on things, its a waste of a loss. I still linger around your thought patterns every once and a while even though I don't know you. You have a funny way of disappearing. A true poet you are, with your mysterious ways and correct punctuation. Your name draws me in... such a beautiful twist of a name that makes me think you are a prophet but not one of saints, one of true love. For some reason you seem natural. A natural being beside mine.
Who are you with all of your elusive downsizing and immaterial graces? She said your were a very interesting character and this makes me wonder why nothing more flattering and wonderful, which then makes me wonder if you really aren't that great at all. The other said you were innocent. I'm innocent too, we should fall together. I would like that. You play an instrument and I've always had a way with words in a charming and decent way, I suppose. I'm far too sketchy and yet perhaps not. Maybe this is really what is natural and I'm just disturbing it with society and anti-freedom. I have the right to look from afar, and you have the right to drive a car off the side of a ravine. I would probably mourn for you, even though you haven't impacted my life quite yet or figured out my crazy passions.
I read my horoscope and it says all these wonderful things about me and then I wonder "why doesn't the rest of the world read my horoscope?" because then things would be so much easier when meeting new people. I wonder what it is to be behind the flashing lights of fame and one day I'll be there and you'll comment on how I was your personal paparazzi. I thought you were the bomb, and you thought I was the shit and we all went skipping down the lane and played guitar on your back and saw the stars for what they really are instead of a strange out-of-a-book romance concept. But perhaps that's why they are romantic.
And why are stars romantic? Because they are something so beautiful and so much greater than ourselves. The universe is romance, God is the ultimate lover and Martyrdom is Romeo and fucking Juliet. I don't want to sacrifice myself to the stars, and maybe you do but if you hang around with me a little maybe you'll change your mind. Like a five-year-old car. Or a five-year-old.
Like I said, I don't know you but you said that maybe I wanted to play music with you and then we would learn. I liked how you used we. It made me feel strange inside. Well you're right, I'd love to do that and in the end we end up making plans like true star crossed lovers not yet knowing the desperation we would get ourselves into. Maybe I'll make a good friend but I'm tired of being friends with people, I have too many of those. I'll just love you, kay? Sounds good.
And then I wonder if you could love me. Ye or nay, it's a win win situation even if it ends with a lose. Just promise your won't erase me from your mind. Or even if you do, Meet Me in Mantauk.