I would wander a desert, because you are my water.
I would sail the ocean blue for years on end, because you are my new continent.
For decades I would search for a cure, because you are my sickness.
Late nights, long hours, and endless drives. All in search of what I lost.
Oh what I would do for you.
I would stay up all night to keep you company while you studied.
Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Years, Decades.
All irrelevant when I am with you.
I do not need coffee to keep me up, you are my energy.
I do not need sleep, because you are my rest.
My love for you is like a circle; it has no beginning and knows no end.
I love you.

I miss her, yet I cannot forget her.
Like echoes of a time long gone.
Silence is my reality.
Try as I might she still holds my mind tight.
Is it her fault for being so captivating?
Maybe it is my own doing, for loving her too deeply.
I feel lost in a lake of dreams.
Dreams haunted with her presence, and nightmares filled with her absence.
She has forgotten me.
Now I am the only scribe left to keep our memory alive. So I write on.
I will not forget these memories, nor will I stop dreaming of a fantasy no longer attainable.
I will forever chase these memories of a dream long gone.

Crystal blue waves lapped against the shore.
The sun began to set.
Wind gently brushed through the palm trees, rustling the leaves. Tenderly shuffling the birds who rested insides its leafy embrace.
Looking down the beach I could see her standing there.
She was always there. She was always smiling.
Her eyes were closed as her hair gently blew in the wind, face lit by the dying embers of the day’s last breath.
Every moment in time was captured in her simple existence.
Every toil and pang was expressed in her sheltered eyes.
I waded through the mushy sand towards her, thinking of how it would feel to hold her close.
I pictured her turning towards me, opening her eyes, and opening her arms to embrace me.
The sand slugged between my feet.
Every step was erased by the oceans never ending grasp on the beach.
The closer I became the more I saw of her beauty.
Her brown hair seemed to hold an infinite amount of splendor, as if all of creation had taken a rest on her strands of hair.
They say that the journey is better than the destination.
Maybe they are right.
Maybe my image of her would overshadow her actual presence. Could it be that her simple existence was nothing but a shadow compared to my artistic portrait of her?
I was almost there.
The person I had waited my entire life for was a mere walks distance from where I stood.
I was not wrong, I knew that every glorious detail he had longed for was true.
As I stood there staring at my life’s desire, she turned towards me and opened her eyes.
This was it, this was the moment I had dreamt of for so long.
As our eyes met, a lump formed in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes.
She was perfect.
Inside of her eyes I could see everything.
Every single wish I had ever made was inside of those two spheres. They glistened in the orange glow of the setting sun.
Like two pools holding the one soul meant for me.

I only have so much space to offer now.
You have taken so much of it.
One area is filled with the memory of our first kiss; which takes up several acres.
Over there is the memory of your smile, which takes up a whole state.
There are several dozen blocks designated to memories of movies we saw together.
Three states are filled up with songs you said reminded you of me.
I have so little free space.
Every thought I have bumps into a memory of you.
Every time I try to remember if I forgot something at the store, your smile rises to the front of my mind's queue.
How much longer will you own land in my mind?
Please.
Please.
I have so little space left.

Trying not to overthink is an exercise in futility for me.
Imagine 3 trains going moderately fast, but each with a varying speed.
Now take those trains and double them while increasing their speeds.
Do that once more.
Imagine how chaotic that would look in reality. Now just warp the image so the trains are all on uneventful tracks that look like a roller coaster.
All of that is how overthinking works inside my brain.
My mind.
So many trains, so much worry, so many thoughts to think. There is never enough time for all of them; yet there they all go. Zooming around the receptors in the mind.
Blurry blobs of information and thought.
"Don't forget the milk. Milk. Milk. Milk. And her name was Joanne. Joanne. Yeah. Whoa that is a crazy deal! Milk Joanne. What in the world would a milk Joanne look like? **** I forgot the milk!"
A dozen trains on a dozen tracks. All flying loose like a thousand bats.

I love the voice.
I adore the beat.
I connect with the lyrics.
Our song moves me in ways nothing else can.
As I listen, a memory begins to stir.
You are there in my car; laughing, smiling, looking at me with those heartbreaking eyes.
How can a memory posses a song?
Like a sickness the song causes me to weaken and become sad.
I slow down and reflect on my loss of you.
How can it be so wrong to love what I once derived joyful feelings from?
Now all I obtain while listening is heartbreak.
Our Song is a haunted song.