I used to write a lot of fiction and poetry. I wanted to be a writer. A famous writer. I won a poetry contest at my university. In high school, I clearly remember writing a poem and thinking to myself that nothing has ever made me so happy. It seems like the time to get back into it.
He wanted to text “Sweet dreams, my Sweet Dream” but cut it off at “Sweet dreams.” They used to talk every night but that got broken off with the break they were taking. He the moon, and she the tide not sure if she wants to feel the pull towards him anymore.
She gets uncertain as to if he is the one, and he ends up being driftwood in her water; wanting to dive deep into my passion for her but only allowed to float at surface level.
Four years together.
A few weeks into those four years she took him to a restaurant to meet her best friend. Perhaps to show the glow she found with him. Perhaps to show how their hearts gripped so tightly to each other.
While she was in the washroom, the friend confided in him that she had never seen her so happy, and lifted by laughter.
When she said they needed to take a break three weeks ago he had never seen tears clear a face of makeup so quickly.
He has fault lines running all through him. There’s always going to be something he does or does not do, or a way that he acts or doesn’t act, and those are the earthquakes that shake her faith in him.
Jef Kearns is a Soul Flautist.
If you like this you’ll love his music. Even if you don’t like this you’ll love his music.