This morning, I had the most intense dream, so real. It was me & it was you & we were young & in Love & doing all those special young and in love things; not because we have to or should, but because we want to. Simple little things, meaningless except for the thought, and the little teases that actually mean something.
I awoke, cried so hard while brushing me teeth I made those gut-wrenching crying noises. I cried all through me shower, I cried on the way to church when I tried to share it with a friend, and, damn it, I'm crying now.
Because I could have had that life, that love, but life's fucking timing together with my general cluelessness about life & love screwed it all up. And because now I am oldish and fattish and just the angry old man I knew I'd grow up to be. And no one saves you from that. No lost love decides to give it up for a chance with that.
Nothing kills the pain. It hurts so deep I can't think about anything but those images, love so true, and cry.
It's nothing, really. Just the shitty truth of life.