So, here it comes, the long weekend before the longest week. I can feel my heartbeat slowing, it's rhythmic meter stops out of reverence of the silent chat box or perhaps out of fear that it will blaze again no more. Where is the heart, it's pitter-patter hushed. Where is the tingle of butterflies on roller skates, it has taken pause, listening, waiting. It's like the calm before the storm, to borrow the phrase. A deep, unsettling emotion lurking beneath my line of sight. A wave of lust and romantic abandon have been my drug for days and nights now, guided my every step and every thought and every word.
I have learned that there is so much in life for me. And so I have forged a covenant with myself to live long enough to take it. And if that is all I can acquire from this sweet sin than it is better than nothing. But I still hold faith. Oh yes, I have faith in this affair, in this second coming. I have faith in the path of God, in the signs he lays out. I'm tracking it like a Indian brave tracks his prey. I am looking and finding and moving along with confidence. But soon, it is inevitable, I shall find the trackless snow. I shall wander aimlessly until one day I see you again, the doe standing near the forests edge, a silhouette in the failing sunlight of evening.
I can no longer fear the silence, the darkness. I am soaked in faith and hope, drenched in romance and lust. The bottle is empty and tossed aside. The fear is gone, the fear is gone.