This is the story of an old man
He likes to light up city's
And disappear without a will to understand
Because he's oh, so witty
It may not seem like much
But it used to cause a fever touch
And just short of love
Maybe it would have been enough
But here's the story of how
He likes to light this up
And makes fun of a fat cow
(But I'm jumping ahead)
This is the story of us:
Once upon a time in a village it seems, there was cheer and laughter with a promise of 'next year'. It was quite dark out, hard to see. There was a peasant sitting on a bench made from tree, and the knight in shinning arm was pleasantly knelled before her feet.
In the moonlight he gripped her face, a soft thumb wiped a graceful tear off a less than perfect cheek. They blocked out the distant noise with the sound of their heartbeats.
With a quiver just above a whisper the girl said,
"I'm never gonna see you again, am I?"
The hand grabbed tighter onto her face as the knights booming and sturdy voice said,
"This is not the end!"
Try with all her might, she couldn't phantom this being right. He made her brave and carefree, made her feel a numbing pulse and shaking knees. But we all have doubts, especially the ones that believe they are never good enough.
"You don't know just how stunning you are tonight," is what the boy said.
Maybe it was beautiful or maybe it was a different verb. The peasant girl, being useless in every way, tends to not remember every word that they would say. But at least she forgives eventually.
The boy hugged her and whispered,
"I wish I could kiss you right now."
She knew she heard correctly but wanted to make sure. So she tore apart the hug and asked him to repeat what he said.
"I wish I could hug you," is what he said he had said.
"No, it's not. You said you wanted to kiss me," she defiantly stated.
He looked back up at her and said,
"That is what I said."
And that truly shocked this poor girl because never had anyone said that directly to her that she wanted to kiss back.
"You don't want to kiss me," she wanted to play difficult.
"I do want to kiss you," he said in a hurry.
She decided to be brave again. Life is too short, she reasoned.
"So why don't you?" She asked him. But her heart was going against the portrait of strength on her face.
"I don't want to mess things up," he sighed, defeated.
She was truly lost here. What could he possibly mess up? Did they not want each other?
"What are you going to mess up if you kissed me?" She pondered.
"I just want to make sure it's right. I promise I'll kiss you one day."
And so he decided that he was done with conversation and she wasn't very rhythmic. So he left her there on that bench.
He left her there in every single way.
Over the years, she had made plenty of mistakes. And she figures he has kissed plenty to this day. Anyone can find her traveling that short distance to the same spot.
He found better, the thing that's most definitely right. Now she writes in the early hours of morning. She gets angry at herself and at him, sometimes the world and how he truly knows how to show you life isn't fair.
But she goes and although she no longer is a peasant and he is a different knight in shinning armor, she lets her soul and imagination run free. Goes back in time, finds the strength to kiss him instead.
I'd say 'The End' but we haven't got to where she's a fat cow just yet! (That's the best part!)