The 2011 song “wait for me” by Motopony plays and I think of how lovely it would be to be that girl they wrote it for. To be given that confirmation of desire, even if there’s time to wait before that happy ending. It’s the hope that the song brings, that hope and yearning to be one entity with another person without losing one’s self on their own.
I’ve been told that the way I jump into love straight forward like a cannonball in the deep end of a pool “radiates hope” which I find amusing cause half the time I have no idea what I’m doing. But hey, if it makes even the darkest of bitter souls hope then I think it’s a good thing. Right?
Ask any one of my friends, they would be very wary when I get involved with anybody. Not that it’s a bad thing, no… I just tend to scare people away. My tinder profile says “I put the dom in domestication” as a warning.
Truth be told, I’m tired of just dating.
I want to be romanticised and be able to just be the person someone calls to nap together. I want picnics and random trips but it seems like that type of romance is limited to songs and blogposts these days. I know I’ve written about this before (maybe even exactly a year ago) but my stance on romance will ever change. Yes, I’m sick and tired of giving my all and getting zilch back but I don’t stop hoping.
Why? Why shouldn’t I hope? Why shouldn’t I try? Why does romance have to die in the world where nobody buys flowers anymore?
Sure, Amy Winehouse sung “love is a losing game,” Paloma Faith sang “only love hurts like this,” and Alextbh sings how love “stoops so low,” but it’s not about the pain and tears.
It’s the giggles under the blanket, the moments where words were not said, it’s the linger of intertwined fingers. The tiny details of where wrinkles turn into smile lines. It’s introducing that person to your best friends and seeing the reaction on their face when you say something gutsy. It’s offering them tea when you want to lean in to kiss them. It’s letting them lay their heads to rest and ensuring them that they’re safe with you.
Can someone tell me how that kind of love is painful? Cause until the day comes where the stampeding rush in my chest, that makes me bite my lip instead of telling them how wonderful it is to have them in my life stops, I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing stars in the cloudy night sky.