Love is not supposed to be like this.
It's supposed to be never ending.
A feeling of magick that consumes you.
Air glittering with the presence of the Gods watching as the moment slows into forever.
Sometimes it comes in a second and lasts a lifetime.
Others it grows over months.
But the feeling doesn't leave you.
The presence fades but the memory takes hold in your mind like an anchor,
Reminding you of the possibilities.
As days continue, you long for that feeling
and it taunts you.
But sometimes the love dies or it's buried so deep beneath a love for another:
the self.
How can a child compete with that?
What am I supposed to do?
They watch as the storm rages in a child wanting for someone who never wanted them
But the opportunities are endless because they are only a shadow.
Fake stories carefully sculpted on a swing set at recess.
Siblings and friends invented for hours instead of sleep.
They continue to watch, their only option
because she doesn't know them yet.
And she won't be ready for a while.
So they watch.
And when she's ready, that memory resurfaces.
The anchor is pulled away to reveal the small seeds ready to grow.
They no longer watch and instead
all is quiet while time slows.
And she feels love again.
As imaginary as the dreams she had but the feelings are real.
He is tall and strong and quiet.
His presence like the sun.
The beams slowly creep in and then they overwhelm the senses with their warmth and love
She is balance
strength
beauty
grace.
She never knows her presence but she is there.
And just like that the storm quiets.
She gasps for air, tears race down her cheeks
and the magick grabs hold of her lungs.
She can feel it.
love
