Season Finale Pt. 1

We were never the marrying type, oh no,
We won’t buy dishes or stained glass lights, oh no,
For a table we’ll never sit at,
In the house that we won’t ever get

I won’t wake up and pick out your tie, oh no,
You won’t come home and kiss me at night, oh no,
We won’t lie in this king bed for two,
Say goodbye to us saying “I dos.”

No more white picket fences,
No more lace veils or vows,
No more “You’re the only one” ’cause that’s all done with now,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you.

Take these roses and this Jameson, oh no,
Find a subway that I can sit in, oh no,
Buy a one-way out of this city,
Everything that I need, got it with me

All these notes and all these words,
Are all that’s left in me,
Bend these pages, count my woes,
One last song to set me free.

No more white picket fences,
No more lace veils or vows,
No more “You’re the only one” ’cause that’s all done with now
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you.

In the past, I did something crazy. And I did something hurtful. And I carry these demons, and I’ve let them anchor me in  place. What’s the use of all this knowledge if the simple concept of love befuddle me so? Well, maybe it’s because love isn’t a simple concept. Maybe it’s more than just neurochemistry and psychology. Maybe the emotion is something metaphysical, or supernatural. Not god, but godlike.

Love is more than just dead plant sex organs. It’s more than just chocolate. It’s more than just words and actions that lead to nothing. And maybe it’s something I’m learning to appreciate again, just like learning how to smile and mean it. There are moments when we speak that I feel a shutter in me. Is it love? Probably not. But just those conversations, silly moments, and playfulness. They keep me coming back for more.

2 thoughts on “Season Finale Pt. 1

  1. I’m not saying that at some point love isn’t staying up until 2am phone calls or stealing kisses when you least expect it, or instantly falling for each other’s favorite songs because it is, or at least that’s what the lead up to it feels like, but real love, is so much more. It’s going out at 12am to get something to eat for your wife who can’t get out of bed, it’s listening to them as they explode with vulnerability on your living room couch talking about how they were only so young when their parents passed on. It’s remembering how someone likes their coffee in the morning without asking – without ever asking, it’s visiting someone in the hospital knowing the last thing you want to do is see them in that condition, it’s wanting to be with that person despite everything, the future, the past, and everything in between, it’s the intimate things that you don’t even realize involve such intimacy, but they do, in secret, like the pinky promises you two made behind your back, to love one another for always, in the time you thought you were in love, when you were actually just on your way to it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.