I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
If you like your coffee hot
let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots
I wanna be yours
I wanna be your raincoat
for those frequent rainy days
I wanna be your dreamboat
when you want to sail away
Let me be your teddy bear
take me with you anywhere
I don’t care
I wanna be yours
I wanna be your electric meter
I will not run out
I wanna be the electric heater
you’ll get cold without
I wanna be your setting lotion
hold your hair in deep devotion
Deep as the deep Atlantic ocean
that’s how deep is my devotion
Rachel— I don’t know how to be near him without being near him.
Donna— I’ll tell you how.
Give him space.
Rachel— I don’t want to give him space.
I want to run to him and hold him and tell him that I love him.
Donna— I know, but, Rachel, if you try to pull him towards you right now, all you’re gonna do is push him away.
Let things be.
They’ll turn out the way they’re supposed to.
Rachel— You don’t know that.
Donna— I do know that.
Rachel, I’m gonna tell you something I’ve never told you.
I slept with Harvey.
Rachel— Oh, my God.
But you told me that
Donna— I know what I told you.
It was once, and I never would have done it if we were still working together.
But then, he left the DA.’s office, andit happened.
And then, the next time I saw him, he wanted me to come with him to the firm, and I did, and that was that.
Rachel— Would you have wanted a relationship with him?
Donna— I would have wanted to try, but he wasn’t ready.
And if I had pushed him to be ready, I would be sitting here talking to somebody else about somebody I used to work with a long time ago.
Rachel— What are you saying?
Donna— I’m saying everything turned out the way it was supposed to.
Rachel— But you said the reason that you two never—
Donna— is because you can never go back.
If a conversation ever hit home. It was this one 😯💜
Be you 🌟
So I have been saying to a friend that I haven’t written here in a while. I feel as if I’ve had a writers block for years. I don’t know if that is the case or am I too afraid to see my thoughts strung into sentences before my eyes; which would affirm my slow but gradual slip into the dark world we call Insanity. 2014 has been a roller coaster for me. Not like any other year has been smooth but this year just seems especially taxing. And sometimes I blame it on my soft heart but then again, I would not be me without it. I find comfort in that fact that some people know me and can tell me like an open book, even to the points of where my soul is like a melody on their lips. It’s been a while since I let people touch those parts of me or if ever.
And it’s amazing that sometimes, the people who are so wrong, so tainted and so unassuming make the best shoulders to cry on. But I want to leave this all, cause comfort for me has always been disastrous. You get comfortable, you feel whole and then you’re broken once again. And when I’m broken, I lose who I am and that search to find those pieces is never an easy one. And if I leave, I believe that it would be the betterment for everyone. “But above all, I wish for your happiness, even though I am aware you require my absence to find it.” and that is just it.
Making someone your relief and happiness could be the greatest disadvantage. Because you depend on their touch, their kiss and their gaze to ignite the fires deep inside you, to keep it burning and keep you alive and when that is at risk of going away, you panic. You hold onto every memory without realizing that it’s far too late to save what was never yours. Sometimes, I wish, even regret events in my life but then again, I don’t, because I’ve never felt this broken or this whole ever.
And the truth with these situations is, you’ll always be a apart of the story but you’re never apart of the climatic chapter. And I’ve never wanted to be part of the climatic chapter because that would be under the guise of falling in love. But this isn’t a story of infatuation or wanting to hold someone captive to be only yours. It’s pure unconditional love. Love, not for the way you look, or the money you have, but for the way I feel when I’m kissed or looked upon, it’s those 2am conversations that let me know that I’m understood, it’s those fights that make me cry because it means something. It’s something of the soul recognizing solace in another. It’s a feeling of complete that I’ve never known before.