I dive right in even though
I know that by the time I get
to the bottom the pool will
be shallow
and when I stand up and shake
the water from my hair and
open my eyes I know for certain
that the water will have drained
away entirely. Just me, soaking,
sopping, sobbing in an empty
pit of gray concrete. I will still
dive because that
fall
through the air
will be the most precious thing,
I suspect. I am sure it will be for
nothing in the end but before then,
it will be for you.
I will do it for you and for my
own selfish reasons, because it's
you, I know, and I will never find
another like you nor will I try.
When you leave I want to remember
you properly, with your eyes shining
but not from tears. Smiling eyes,
laughing pools of brown, open.
Always I will remember you and
I want the memories to be perfect
because I love you and I am not
as selfless as you and I want to
remember love this way so that
when I fall into the shallow water
and the shock flows up my spine
and stings my soul I can remember
your face and remember
that I did it for you, that love is strong
enough to push acrophobia off the
edge and send it
s o a r i n g
with arms spread wide and eyes wide
open. Maybe if I can remember that, the
soaring before the fall, I will try again
to find it even though I know it won't
be your fall. I will continue in search
of it anyway, a hopeless search for
something halfhearted, but I will
continue it whole-heartedly, that I
might always be reminded of you.
And now, I will embrace the concrete
floor, the stinging of the spirit and
the soaring of the soul, as I fall, that
you might see my smile and enjoy
the fall with me,
before it crashes.
That is how much I love you.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
I dive right in even though
I know that by the time I get
to the bottom the pool will
be shallow
and when I stand up and shake
the water from my hair and
open my eyes I know for certain
that the water will have drained
away entirely. Just me, soaking,
sopping, sobbing in an empty
pit of gray concrete. I will still
dive because that
fall
through the air
will be the most precious thing,
I suspect. I am sure it will be for
nothing in the end but before then,
it will be for you.
I will do it for you and for my
own selfish reasons, because it's
you, I know, and I will never find
another like you nor will I try.
When you leave I want to remember
you properly, with your eyes shining
but not from tears. Smiling eyes,
laughing pools of brown, open.
Always I will remember you and
I want the memories to be perfect
because I love you and I am not
as selfless as you and I want to
remember love this way so that
when I fall into the shallow water
and the shock flows up my spine
and stings my soul I can remember
your face and remember
that I did it for you, that love is strong
enough to push acrophobia off the
edge and send it
s o a r i n g
with arms spread wide and eyes wide
open. Maybe if I can remember that, the
soaring before the fall, I will try again
to find it even though I know it won't
be your fall. I will continue in search
of it anyway, a hopeless search for
something halfhearted, but I will
continue it whole-heartedly, that I
might always be reminded of you.
And now, I will embrace the concrete
floor, the stinging of the spirit and
the soaring of the soul, as I fall, that
you might see my smile and enjoy
the fall with me,
before it crashes.
That is how much I love you.
"It's you, I always, always knew." —The Vaccines
