Seamus would talk about those,
"Sexually liberated Ithaca College girls."
I guess that's what I thought you were.

Cornell with it's ******* frat houses.
and ******* nasty frat parties.
We met in the basement of mine.
I was still hungover.
I don't blame you for thinking
I was just another frat boy.

I don't know for sure,
We were so far apart.
But I think we were both shocked,
That we had found real people.

Normal people.
Caring and sensitive.
Doing cute little romantic things.
Saying the right stuff,
And in between, saying the wrong stuff.
Letting the weird stuff spill out.

Then thinking maybe it wasn't so weird.
Maybe there was somebody amazing,
Hidden behind the person I made them out to be.
Maybe that wildness I saw.
It was't exotic.
It wasn't ***.

It was familiar.
It was looking in a mirror.
It was a sunset at the farm,
And morning coffee with my family.

I knew it when I saw it.
But it took me a long time to know what I saw.
If I hadn't learned who I was.
If I hadn't looked in the mirror and
Understood,
Finally,
What I was seeing.

I wouldn't have understood
Why I wanted you so bad.

I want to hold your head in my hands.
See that fire in your eyes.
Relive the first time.
Every time.
See home,
From so far away.

I think too much.
But I think I knew it.
When I say you.
Something,
Your eyes maybe.
It was weird.
I was a little weird.
Too much energy.
But you were so calm.
Everything you said,
Every. Single. Thing.
I thought,
"I like her."
First it was with a head tilt.
"I like her?"
A flash of narrowed eyes.
Curious of myself.
I was staring dead ahead,
At someone else.
Then this movement in my peripherals.
Like leaves rustling.
Like apples dropping.
"What was that?"
A bird flashing its feathers.
"Wow that..."
From the other side of the trail,
A doe huffs at me.
Big indignant eyes.
Shining in the sun.
What fire.
I can't linger too long.
My eyes,
Back to the trial.
The path clear ahead.
But.
But now silently,
I'm begging.
For the rustle of leaves.
The call of the wild.
Something natural.
A call I can't ignore.
A haunting on all sides.
But I'm through the trees.
The sounds only echo.
As I walk alone again,
On the grass fleeting under foot.
Infinite but alone.
The trees spring up around me.
A long time later.
As if I'd wished them there.
My confused head,
With all it's begging.
The forest came again.
And again I followed the path!
Indignant.
Decided.
On the trail.
The clear cut path.
Eyes fixed.
Feet marching.
They march down the clear trail.
But my heart,
Breathing in gulps since I saw her.
It had eeked it's way up.
Into my eyes.
It,
Finally,
Looked to the sides.
Into that hidden expanse.
Begging for movement again.
Beautiful birds to sing.
That doe with the fire eyes.
And my heart.
Pounding agianst the will of my body,
Could not,
Stop my stride.
I marched on.
The clear road ahead.
Through.
Past.
That beautiful place.
It haunted me.
The movement on the sides.
How I had been watching the
Wrong person.
The whole time.
It was strange.
How it lingered around me.
"I'll go back.
Go back.
I'll go back."
But I was lost.
In the haze that had caught me.
Wandering lost and dead.
I only knew gray.
Couldn't see tomorrow.
Even the echo was lost.
Bouncing at the border of my prison.
Begging to find me again.
When I was through.
And it had found my ears again.
I didn't scream.
I want to say I did.
I want to say
It was a dramatic awakening.
But my world built again in peices.
When I remembered,
Finally,
I said to the wind,
Broken.
Wishing.
"Come to me."

"No. Come to me."
So now I dream
Awake because they keep me up.
My dreams determined to be real,
Won't let me sleep.
I'll have to make my days as
Perfect.
Catch up with reality.
I can't wait to lay in the shade.
Run away into the woods
And be lost.
Lost and found and warm and free.
I knew it when I first saw her.

I tried to write out the reasons.
Why it was you.

I couldn't.
It got scrambled.
And lost in itself.
It stopped making sense.

Like us.

And in the middle of it,
The list,
With your name at the top.
I'd write something,
Something I was feeling then.
A reason to give my heart to someone.
Some amazing quality.
Some wild romantic thing.
And in the middle of it.
The sentence,
I'd look up a see different eyes.

I was writing what I was feeling about someone else,
Under your name.

It wasn't a lie I guess,
I was just lost.
And that was for someone else.
I'm still lost.
And maybe it'll get to them eventually.

I stopped putting things on that website
Because.
Because, I think.
When it stopped being about you.
It stopped being about anything.


I stopped putting things on that website.
Because.
Because I think when It stopped being about you.
It stopped being about anything.

I stopped putting things on that website,
Because when it stopped being about you.
It stopped being about anything.

When it stopped being about you.
It stopped being about anything.

When it stopped being about you.
It stopped being about anything.

Those may be the most honest lines I've
ever written.
They're missing something.

A beginning and an ending.

They're the middle of a story.

That's hopeful I guess.

From a light
At the end of a tunnel.
But I'm facing a thousand
In a thousand directions.
Dead ends running away.
Above me and below me.
Through my chest and in every
Direction my arms can point.
To a thousand black dead ends.
From somewhere.
Maybe not one but a dozen.
A glow finds me.

When you're on the ground, I will bring you up.
Break my hand and dislodge my elbow.
I will bring you up.

When we're standing together, get on my shoulders.
I will bring you up.

If I fall and can't stand again.
When I'm gone.
Stand on my corpse.

I will always bring you up.

Dark movie theatre.
A third into Kingsman.
Phone buzzes.
Can't check it. Have to guess.
That name.
That's who's important.