Kiss me now, as we stand beneath the seeping sky. Emotions drench you to the core, though you allow yourself to feel nothing but the rain.
I can tell you're scared.
I can tell you've loved before.
I can tell you've lost more than you thought you had to gain.
I can tell the walls you've built to protect yourself are higher than the both of us.
You give a firm embrace as your lips dance with mine, but your eyes are open. I can tell that I am not the one.
Rapunzel, grow your hair.
Grow it long, pray it will be strong.
Maybe, someday, a stronger man will be up for the climb.
I am tired.
The weather is changing; soon, the rain will have passed, and I'll think back on this gray day. Maybe you'll be the one I let slip away. Maybe you were already long-gone before we met. The fact that I can only wonder makes the decision easier.
I wonder when you'll realize this kiss meant goodbye.
I've had more than one woman tell me she fears she'll grow old all alone. That's such a sad thing to be told, and it's sadder still when it's part of a self-fulfilling prophecy. This post is a memory of the last time I saw one such woman.
And by the way, I'll have you know that it was a wonderful kiss. If it's going to be the last, make it last.