No wind to carry a detailed idea, just transparent thoughts of the night before, floating nonchalantly in the air above me, unwilling to land. I spent the night, and morning, try assiduously to keep my tired eyes open and I listen to sweet nothings over the phone.
The oddest thing about staying awake way past your given bedtime, in the caliginous of the night, is that some people do so unwillingly; but the latter disposed. I was the latter this time round, and I'd say awkward conversations at the break of dawn are rather amusing. Shy confessions and uneasy laughter may not have been the ideal, but I liked it that way. I like the way you're willing to take baby steps, to test the waters with me.
I find it rather impossible to digest flattering remarks, find it tough to identify if they are genuine or not. I don't know, I sometimes feel that although we strive to speak with the utmost sincerity and are overflowing with good intentions, the lack of understanding of a subject or event, the plain fact that we only see the surface or things, not by choice but by the inevitable circumstances that we are in, cannot possibly allow us to be earnest with out speech. Simply put, it's not because I don't trust the words, but because I don't trust the words you say blindly. For the unadorned reason that, you do not understand.
So to tonight then; to the fireworks we'll stay up watching from our separate bedroom windows, and the words exchanged through the telephone line.
