Random stuff I wrote at midnight

"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."

The world is so noisy. All the flashing lights and constant chatter drowns out the "small things in life." But it's not like that here. It's at times like these when I feel truly at home. All the commotion from the world outside just seems to fade away, and we are left with this moment. A frame, a picture, a fragment. Something that is so small, when you think about it. In the grand scheme of things it it just a moment, just a frame, just a picture, just a fragment. Nothing more. It will dissolve, drowned out by all the teenage heartbreaks, political disasters and pointless, empty tears. Something so small and unimportant and yet it can make a person feel so much. For a few seconds, remembering, this is what it's like to feel too much. To have so much and yet so little going through your head as the fluttering sensation washes over your body. Feeling as through this is the only place you will ever truly find yourself.

I would compare her to a storm. It could be a tapping on the window as you sit, engulfed in blankets, fingers intertwined, a comforting arm wrapped around your waist, or a crash of thunder as the rain falls around you, making your nose run and your hair stick to your forehead. It all depends on your viewing point. We are sitting indoors, the pattering of rain on the windows and the low buzz of our hushed conversation serving as a soundtrack to the night outside. I take one of her quivering hands in my much more steady one, my other hand being used to steady a mug of hot chocolate that is precariously balanced on my knee. The sleeves of my jumper are pulled over my hands, shielding me from the heat of mug. I rest my head on her shoulder and feel leather and cold metal pressing against my cheek. The bed shakes slightly as she bounces her knee up and down in time to a rhythm only she can hear.

I become aware of a faint humming, washing away whatever paint splatters of stories and melodies had previously stained my brain. I listen as our low drone of late night chatter was replaced by the barebones of a quiet tune. The humming slows to a halt. In this newfound silence I am able to make out the sound of a heartbeat. This is a sensation that both trills and terrifies me. This is what's keeping this person going. This is the difference between life and death. This is so precious... and it's right there! I find myself tapping the side of my mug in time with her heartbeat. I crack a small smile at the high pitched ringing sound that resounds through the room.

Only unfinished artwork, scattered books and old, frayed love letters are witness to our little piece of life. Our moment, our frame, our picture, our fragment... but it means so much more.

"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations" ~The Fault in Our Stars