They said they just knew.

“I knew they were the one.“

What a powerful thing to know.

How much uncertainty gets taken out of life. Because they knew.

The bar is set high.
Do you know?
Do you know like they knew?
Don’t you want... to know?

You reminded me I haven’t found what I’ve always wanted...yet.

If the me of the past, present and future could sit me down for a cup of tea.
Oh god how interesting would that be. What would she tell me?
What parts of me are real and which ones are just phases?
How do I find my “true self” and does even that, go through changes?
Is there no right me except the one that can handle the now?
Or is there a best me, that is trying to break out?

Run run run just as fast as you can
You can’t catch me
I’m
Chasing after my next win.
While the enthusiasm I have for my current venture soaks in slowly like syrup into the cedar floor.
Why do I love to run so much?
Why can’t I be happy at a truce?
Why can’t I stand in resolve at the finish line?
Why does the finish line never feel like the real finish line?
There must be another right?
This can’t be it?... Right?

Let me cut them out.
Let me cut out all the good memories from our story.  
Let me paste them together.
Let me paste them into a collage that shows my happiness.
Happiness I only feel with you.
And hope.
Hope you create in me.

that's it. that's the story.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever love someone the same as they love me.
Will it always be too much or not enough or somewhere in between?
I'm not sure why I have it wrong time and time again.
But I always end up feeling lonely or want them more as just a friend.
Will someone ever love me like I love them?
Will we ever walk down the same path and not have to pretend?
I'm not sure why I have these vices but my grandpa I think had them too. I found poems he wrote on a typewriter, back in '62.
They weren't about love but they rhymed in a way that showed he hurt. If I could only know the memories that lay in his body behind his tobacco smoke-infused shirt.