signs and the empty wine glass?

12:57 AM

Somehow I figured out how to be miserable and happier at the exact same time. How does that even happen? Does life allow that? I suppose it does, and it's a strange feeling. But there are only a handful of things I'd give this up for, and they're fairly obvious.

Que sera, sera and we dance and we sing.
You'll always be my konstantine.

It's always you and your big dreams? I have my dreams. I am avidly pursuing them, thank you and I would love to share some thoughts about the subject if you do so have the time? That's great, lets meet at eight and I'll wear that dress you love so much and you just make sure you wear a tie. That would make the evening perfect. I won't spill my wine and you won't forget to tip 20% and we'll paw each other in the back of a cab as if it's nothing. No one has to know, we keeps secrets just like anyone else. Only I don't believe in secrets anymore. Someone always gets hurt and I'm over that, aren't you?

If I can speak freely, I believe in signs. I believe in the universe describing potential outcomes and I fully support those who listen or don't listen to said universe. My universe said to call and here I am, my heart at my feet, scouring the sky for a speck of a star or a song or a call out of my name because that would be an obvious sign. A rock on the ground that half spells your name isn't something I'm going to notice, and possibly that is the point, but I can't spend my time on my knees trying to piece together a puzzle that may or may not lead to an answer. Patience has never been my thing and at this rate if there is even the slightest crack in my water glass I'm calling everything off because, I'm sorry, I struggle with half-assed.

It won't be the first time and I'm afraid it won't be the last time. I people please and I educate and I also scold mentally when I don't get what I want. I have no one to blame but myself and if my dress rips so help me God I'm coming after you and you best be standing there, needle in hand because if it's not my dress that needs repaired it sure as hell may be my state.

I'll find it. I really shouldn't doubt the universe no matter how many times I've been disappointed in the past, should I? Isn't there a point where you just give it up and let it be and then out of nowhere things start working out? If only I could remove my head from the clouds for a second I'd be able to breathe and see these situations for what they are and eventually look back and appreciate them.

But, wait. I've already done that.

I can breathe now, with or without your air to keep me form shoving this fork into the person sitting next to me, strictly to feel like I'm noticed. No, this isn't self-loathing. I feel nothing but happiness and grace about myself, I don't feel bad. I can feel discounted or crumbled, but never bad, so you must have me confused with someone else. I probably shouldn't even have brought it up.

Can we eat? I'm starving.

And that's how you settle back into the present. Aromas and such bring me back to my seat and no more floating or day dreaming or worrying if the unfortunate way your napkin lies is a sign that you're soon going to be lying secluded or surrounded but feeling more disconnected than someone who forgets to pay their cell phone bill. I don't know which is worse. So I'll have a sip and take a bit of this amazing meal I get to share and remember that it's not a loss, just a hiccup and potentially the year can only get better.

If you believe in signs, that is.

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sup fool.