100 Ways To Fall In Love

Bertholdt Hoover

AGAIN: Take 892

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Love I

Love, to Bertholdt Hoover, is a risk. It's the uncertainty you feel before showing someone something you've spent a long time working on. It's the erratic beating of your heart as you wait with baited breath. The anticipation of someone holding a part of your heart and soul without even knowing. It's jumping headfirst into something because you don't know what's going to happen next.

Summer
You're like a breeze in summer.
Ever so playful and ever so sweet.
I often find myself yearning for your soft embrace.

Unknown
Silence was your way of speaking,
Actions were your words.
The distance between you and I was overwhelming,
Yet I wondered about you for better or worse.

Despair
Life is a cycle
A pattern you tried to break
I could only watch

Distance
We met as young children, where you set my life ablaze.
I wanted to be near you, but we always moved like waves.

Your life was rooted where we stayed,
Yet you were always drifting away.

Like the stars you shine.
Far away with a brilliance I can only admire from a distance.

Adults
There's a certain sadness that comes with growing up. It's something rarely ever talked about and something that's never realised until premonition comes to fruition.

As children we are constantly promised 'I'll tell you when you're older.'
Constantly told, 'you're not old enough yet.'
So it can only be expected that children spend the entirety of their youth waiting to be older. Hoping to feel that change they've believed one day they'll feel. Waiting for the chance to do everything they've always wanted to do. The moment when the answer is no longer 'no.'

Yet, none ever talk about how different isn't exactly good.
Neither bad nor good but a certain kind of sadness.

We suddenly learn that everything we have wanted is now what we had.
The innocence and wonder we used to see the world with is gone and all we can do is desperately try to reclaim it.

There's a certain sadness that comes with growing up because it means that you have left so much behind.

Strangers
I always thought I knew you. That at the very least we were friends.

One day, I saw you standing alone in front of a grave. I wasn't quite sure whose but it must have been someone important. I couldn't see your eyes but I figured that you must have been crying. You'd never been a fan of death. I think you were saying something but I could only vaguely make out your words. You were reading a story from a book I didn't know you had. You'd never been a fan of reading. After a long while you finally turned around to leave. Your hair was down then and I thought it a little strange. You always tried your best to make sure you looked presentable. Your eyes were glossy and lips turned down. I don't think I'd ever seen such a sad look on your face. In fact, I didn't even know you were capable of making such an expression in the first place.

It was then I realised that I had never known you at all.

Strange
Sometimes I wonder what it is you think about.
I wonder if you dream of the stars or see flashes of colour in the wind.
I wonder if you ever think about me?
Is it strange to think so? Is it strange to hope you do?

Tragedy
I found brilliance in your eyes.
You found excuses for your lies.

I saw your loneliness as sane.
You saw refuge in your pain.