Looking Through Stained Glass


I think of him night and day. If not exactly twenty-four hours, as close as humanly possible for anyone to honestly come. He opened the closed book that was my mind with knowledge. He filled my hardened heart with happiness and refreshed my weary soul with joy.

    Maybe it's just imagining things.

When I'm not with him, everything becomes dull and lifeless, off kilter. The most exquisite of items have no appeal. When I am with him however, everything has color and magic. I can suddenly see the majesty in a variety of ordinary of things.

    Maybe its all in my mind.

When time comes in two forms; how long it has been since I last saw him and how long it will be until I see him again. I find myself saying things like 'It must have happened on Friday because it was the day before the last time we went out and that was two days ago.'

    Maybe its just being silly.

When I'm with him I feel changed-different. That things can be good solely because he is apart of it. He leaves me feeling so fulfilled, that for a long time afterwards, I forget how hardened and empty my life felt without him. He calls and whispers sweet everythings for an hour, then I'll call back a minute for an encore. And the charm of it is, we don't have to speak to each other, we just seem to feel what needs to be.

    Maybe its crazy.

I find myself opening at just the thought of him. I can feel his presence even when there's an ocean between us. I find myself doing extra things that are pleasing to him, because what he feels-I feel. When he laughs-I laugh, he hurts-I hurt. I choose to stand by him, not because I have to, but because that's where my heart knows I should be and death defy all who dares to down him. When without him I can't breath and with him I'm breathless.

    Maybe its imagining things.
    Maybe its all in my mind.
    Maybe its silly.
    Maybe its crazy, but
    Maybe, just maybe, its

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