Fluff

My soul is blanketed.

It's blanketed in love.

So,

I suppose,

It is not my soul that I speak of,

But my heart;

My heart.

I just want to write a song so beautiful that Time is touched by it and blesses me with lingering moments of love.

Oh, dear. I simply must stop with all of this fluff.

Silent Music

When I think of us, and I know this is weird, but, I hear music. When I picture us together, there is this soundtrack that goes along with that picture. The significance of this, I believe, is that there is a soul to the very existence of you and I together.

Before I go any further, if you are reading this, please understand that sometimes I fluff up my blog posts to correspond with the whole wordscapturingthemoments.blogspot.com theme. So, if you're like, "Woah, this girl is crazy," then fear not, for I am perfectly normal. I just like to use sappy words and colorful language. But in all honesty, you definitely are something special. Don't get freaked out by that. Please.

Blink 182 exudes an individuality that is parallel to our personalities and belief that we are who we are and can be anything. At least, that's the sense I get from you.

Van Morrison, although we haven't listened to him together, defines the ease of us being together. It's the music of the mornings with you. And for some reason, I see us making pancakes together and dancing around the kitchen to "More Than a Feeling" by Bon Iver. And not to be too cliche, but I also hear "Happy Together" by The Turtles. That's just a fun-loving song. I mean, c'mon.

There is a particular music for waking up next to you, with your arms wrapped around me. One song that comes to mind is "Closing Time" by Semisonic.

But before the morning comes—before we drift off into separate worlds—there is a different song that lulls me to sleep, urging me to dream of you. Sitting on your roof, staring up at the stars, I hear "Hear You Me" by Jimmy Eat World. I'm sitting in front of you with your arms wrapped around me. You rock me back and forth to a rhythm neither of us need ears to hear. Your hands find mine and hold them tightly to tell me you won't let go. Our breathing slows and synchronizes to our imaginary music. The bridge comes. You whisper something in my ear and then the chorus erupts and your lips are against mine as a drop of water falls from above and lands softly on a cheek. And there we sit in the cold air of the night filled with silent music.

I'm Lucky

Sometimes people are lucky. That's not to say I believe in luck. Actually, I guess that does mean I believe in it. But I believe that luck is something that is granted to those that deserve it and need it. It's not handed out freely. It's not like being born into wealth or being naturally gifted with superior singing talent. Luck is a combination of Fate, Karma, and a person's soul. And you know what? While I still can't understand why, I'm lucky.

That moment. What was it? There was something about that moment that will forever linger in my mind, in my heart. I'm starting to believe it was magic. Yes, magic. That must've been what it was. And is.

There's something about you—and I know that sounds cliché, but it's true—that draws me to you. And something tells me that the feeling I'm feeling is reciprocated. There is this balance in my life that I had once lost and you have restored. But you've gone beyond restoring it. You have built to what it never was or could've been without our meeting.

Lord, I sound like such a sap; such a romantic. I suppose I am.

I love how we can coax a smile from each other. I love how we can be kids and not worry about growing up. And yet, I love how we see a real world around us. We see a real world around us but we are surrounded by fantasy. (That's hard to interpret. I just liked the sound of it.) I love how we hold each other and it feels more natural than breathing.

I'm lucky.