Move Along

"Move along,
There's nothing left to see.
Just a body
Pouring down the street."

~Thom Yorke, 'Gagging Order'

I'm terrified. That change thing is happening again. Classic milestones or not, changes are still terrifying.

Now, if you love me, maybe you are wanting to quell my fears. But I ask you, if you love me, please don't. I'm scared, but I'm not frozen. I'm not lacking for courage, just lacking for company.

I've uprooted and travelled hundreds, thousands of miles before. It was terrifying then, it's terrifying now. I have left (or thought I left) my most treasured loves and comforts behind in the name of the future (and survived). I always find them again, or, at the very least, I find myself in the places I go (probably mostly this latter, and the others follow).

I've learned that we're all working on puzzles where all the pieces are the same shapes, so mostly we're trialanderror-ing until we start to see the semblance of some sense. Except me. I'm a little backwards. I can see the pictures, I just can't always make sense of all the ways you try and show it to me (and the showing is part of the overall picture, really).

I'm addicted to your mind's eye. To Our love. Our music. But we're so asleep, and far away, the scores are so short (but oh so sweet). A drop (of honey) in fluid motions. A paper boat, floating down the gutter, after reminding rains. You go where life takes you, and sharing a life makes a turbulent guide. I love you.

I'll be closer, when I move away. Move along, like water (can't help but do).