call that never came

When the snow starts to pile up outside of a girl's bedroom window, you can find him staring out of his wishing he were anywhere but the southern hemisphere during her winter.  How do you hold someone close when telephone wires only transfer so much energy?  Caged in an existence that hinders fate and sequesters love, boundaries placed on what would otherwise be known as emotional freedom.  Only so long does patience hold practicality, after that point we are forced to push down doors and break things because we feel no other option, we've been taught no other way.  The language of this world we're travelers in is full of love, if we'd simply search for it - you can tell somebody a million ways how dearly admired they are, in a hundred tongues with lips spread to show teeth that bare something akin to the soul.  This moment is blessed, the feeling of missing, the empty palms facing upward in constant wonder, the eyes that hold the tears that sometimes chose to rush out at inconvenient moments in ever greater inconvenient places.  We're all lost, let's not pretend; some of us just make better looking maps than others.

So when you find somebody whose hand you'd like to hold for the ride - whose heart strings you'd like to double knot to your own - whose feet you can stand on and feel taller than the world - whose hands can circle your face and make you hold your breath in anticipation - whose chair always has room for more than just one - whose simple character flaws make you laugh more than they make you upset - grab them.  Find them.  Make a way, create a new path, the world is here to explore and we're all just visiting in the end, anyway.  Forever curious.