.....So maybe it's the title..
[to vary between differing beliefs, opinions, conditions, etc. : "He oscillates between elation and despair.]
I turned 18. Though it felt like SUCH a long day, when it was over I noticed it really just came and went. And that- selfish or not- I didn't want it to be gone. I only wished I could've truly grasped how much people loved me.
I wanted to feel alive. Whatever that means. I resorted to swimming with my friends in the dark around 1 am. I wanted to float on my back, let the water fill my eardrums, and search the sky for shooting stars. I imagined all of us doing that in unison. It was beautiful, but wasn't fitting. Instead we made up names for silly jumps into the pool and cracked each other up. Talked about lucid dreaming and things much more trivial.
I laid with her underneath the hot shower outside. Legs up, on our backs, facing the stars. Smooth, young, shimmering bodies full of unknown potential. Full of pure love. For one another and countless others- some yet to cross our path. I told her that if I could only wrap words around [it].. then [it] would be heartbreakingly beautiful. Though it would never be documented anywhere other than a place few eyes would ever find.
I needed to wrap words around it. It's long, but needed to be made immortal through a pen onto paper. Strictly because I may not have realized it until after, but I have never meant something so much in my life. Immortality is the runt of what it ultimately deserves.
I came inside and spent 3 hours on a kitchen floor. Writing a little story for her, myself, whoever else on some other day. Documenting what deserves much more potential than some two-dimensional has-been tree.