A field full of fireflies...

If I had it my way, 

I would blink and we'd disappear.

Somewhere, somehow,

watching the stars come out.

We'd have a record on,

dance a little by the fire placе,

thеn we'd just lay.

If I had it my way.

I guess I'm not better alone...

He knew that there are many ways for a heart to break. Sometimes it's from the crowding of life, the compression of responsibility, and burdens that squeezed you until you couldn't breathe anymore. Even though your lungs were working just fine. And sometimes it's from the casual cruelty of a fate that took you far from where you had thought you would end up. And sometimes it's age in the face of youth. But sometimes it's just because you're looking into the eyes of your lover and your gratitude for having them in your life overflows. Because you showed them what was on the inside and they didn't run scared or turn away, they accepted you and loved you and held you in the midst of your passion or your fear. Or your combination of both.

Live my day as if there was no past...

He closed his eyes and began to weave a story. He abandoned the familiar threads he'd played so many times before and went in search of something new, no longer wanting a journey fed on pain or guilt. He needed one that could replace those wounds with strength, with resolve, with confidence. He needed a tale that could heal and build anew. The words warbled and fell, haphazard, chaotic, settling without flight. His forehead creased, yet he persisted. He let his fingers wander on their own, reached out with his mind. He chased the fleeting story he'd glimpsed once before. In his dreams he'd felt a hint of it: something wild, untamable, a thing sprung whole and flawless from the instant of creation.