"I've always been in love with you, I guess you've always known, I took your love for granted why oh why the show is over say goodbye.....take a bow"
She woke up with a start, realising that for the 3rd month consecutively she went to sleep without speaking to him. The man she was supposed to love with all her heart.
There was something about statistics that made sense of those clouds in the brain, those "I can't remembers" or sketch timeframes. If she was totally honest with herself she hadn't spoken to him in about a year.
When she let her mind think about this a terrible guilt overwhelmed her. She knew this from the past, before she got close to him, before she knew better.
That was part of the problem, the illogical beauty of rebellion. She knew what it felt like to be around him, to interact with him, to recognise him and get excited at the thought of all the plans he had, he was ambitious, much more than she ever could be...
...When she let herself think about it, she loved the theory, the control he had, the seamless ease at which life played out. Yet the honest truth was lack of control was a hinderance to her. She worked within her own control, which ultimately placed boundaries, to let people in......and let her out.
These rules that formed through control had become small at first, like tidy little picket hedges creating a logical sense for rhyme and reason. They soon grew to be important to her, both in meaning and concequently in height, soon she couldn't jump over them anymore, they had become too high.
So she remained trapped, unable to even see him.
Sometimes if the wind blew the right way she thought she heard his voice, calling to her. Sometimes people had passed on messages, telling her he was asking about her.
Inside her, somewhere underneath doubt and guilt she knew, if she called him, if she actually took the time out to ask, he would knock down these walls and would rescue her.
Before she ever got around to asking him, she had fallen asleep again, telling herself she would definately think about getting over this wall tomorrow. Another day had passed, and so he remained, on the other side of the wall, longing to see her, to ask her how she was getting on, to tell her that he loves her.
Would this night be the night, alone in the dark......