Right Under My Feet Is Air Made Of Bricks

14 Nov

I’m in a strange and new place with strange and new friends who I’m slowly starting to love.  Unfortunately, though, they are obsessed with love.  I’m starting to find that most people I meet, at least people I meet who are near to me in age, are obsessed with love.  Maybe they’re normal for being this intent on love, marriage and babies and I’m just odd for spending so little of my time thinking about it.  Sometimes I seriously think that this makes me…broken.

This is how I feel when I close my eyes lately.  Imagining being held by someone out there who I haven’t met yet, who I cannot see yet and who doesn’t know I exist yet.  Someone who’s arms fit perfectly around me and who’s neck begs to be lightly petted by my fingers.

On good days this is the most time I spend thinking about love.  On bad days I spend a lot of time asking myself questions like this.  Is everyone else crazy and narcissistic for spending so much time asking for my opinion about their relationship or am I broken for not caring enough about my romantic future?

Mr. Fox I’m waiting for you.  And I think it’s to my credit that I have other things to think about all day than just you.

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