The Interim.

Until.

There are books to read. Poetry to be devoured. Dreams to be remembered. All in the waiting. It’s not so bad. There will be another. Another better, another who is a mirror. Until then, long walks alone. Time. Laughs with friends. Words to be written. Countries to visit. Tequila to drink. Drives to be taken. Work to be done. It is okay. Until the one. Until the seeker becomes the one being sought. After Monday, Tuesday. Who were you yesterday? The same, but different. There is music to melt into. Music will save you. Always. Listen loudly. Tangled Up In Blue. Remember that one. Daydream. Fall backwards. There are oceans to swim in. Miles to run. Museums where nothing exists except beauty. Dancing. There are woods to wander in. Bikes to be ridden up hills and then down so fast your breath you can hardly catch. Until then, until him. Mountains to ski, valleys to rest. There is someone. Somewhere. Out there. For you.

©littlebrownbutterfly

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