Time. . .

Days, weeks. . .months? I don't know, time. Yeah, time, that's it. Time has gone by. And though I'm still not sure I can believe in the solution of what time can do, I feel the distance in this time changing us. If there was an us. For such a long moment I thought there might be. I wanted there to be, I yearned for it, pondered the very thought of an 'us' time after time. And what a long time it seemed to be. I used to take the mixed signals, untangle them and then just take the good ones for what they were worth. But they weren't worth very much at all, no insult intended. It felt as if the urge to want to kiss those pursing lips would never go away. I'm not sure if it's the absence, the world around me with much less of her in it, or if this time has taken away what it jolted into my heart within the first .25 seconds I set eyes on her. I couldn't really tell you. But I know I still can't help but find beauty in her. . .her pictures, her face, her eyes, her lovely pursing lips, her writings, her thoughts, everything. Regardless of the beauty she withholds, the complicated feelings she subjected me to could break me down. So I toss out the window, my feelings for her and if they land in my driveway I'll get someone to run them over and drag the remaining pieces with. I may step on the fragments when I pace up and down my driveway, contemplating the consequences of my actions. They may stick back to me like that rubber and glue, but at least for the most part, they're not present.