When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Open, close, open, close. Pandora's box.
A vault with sturdy locks.
If I could only turn back the hands on the singing cuckoo clock,
I'll keep all my secrets (in my socks?)
Sometimes, when a channel is established between two people in the name of love, other smaller and comparatively insignificant tributaries get clogged up and forgotten. Certain thoughts that once flow freely are suddenly arrested and inspected, detained and quarantined - sometimes they do regained liberty and freedom to float across, albeit with its original meaning diluted and at times lost; other times they stay within one's mental sphere to stifle and rot.
Sighs. What are the appropriate criteria to screen and select certain manifestations of our mind to go through to the other innocuously, innocently, and uncuttingly? What are the limits to saying sweet words so excruciatingly meaningful to oneself, but may appear too coy, unctuous and dripping with insincerity?
Of course, I'm in a much better position to take control of my emotions now then the past week or so. Still I know not what to do, or how to treat him nice after slashing and clawing at him with all the ferocity that a lioness jabbed in her butt can muster. My irritability had perfused the air, and my frustration made the whole place smell bad. I know it all, yet I can't do a single thing about it until now.
How can one make amends? How can one try to resuscitate and rescue something as fragile and as ethereal as a relationship? Will the process of salvaging a relationship be akin to fixing a broken vase, and the unfortunate one end up getting badly cut from mending it?
For him I try. He asked for more time. I pray he gives me a chance to love him in the fullest way that I can too.
1:39 PM
