i was walking home from dinner last night when i spotted two people--a boy & a girl--running
off in the parking lot.
she was ahead of him and he quickly followed.
i could tell that they were laughing and enjoying themselves.
why they were running, i couldn't tell you.
but, in a matter of just a few split seconds, i watched as the two of them interacted
and it was in this brief moment of time that my heart stopped a bit.
i watched as the boy came from behind the girl--arms out, as if to reach and take her within his arms.
he did this and i stopped in the street just watching, waiting to see him scoop her up within his
arms and embrace her.
i felt a tinge of jealousy and a tremendous craving for that playful chase.
however, in just a second or two he went from seeming to scoop her up, to doing nothing at all.
rather, he passed her up in pace and then slowed her down.
and then the two of them carried on walking up a side path.
just like that.
i felt so disappointed.
and i laughed to myself for this disappointment.
there was no reason for it,
and yet i had been jealous, admiring and disconcerted
all in a matter of split moments.
all i wanted was to see him pick her up or embrace her.
i can't say why, other than the moment between the two strangers seemed so wonderful
that i wished to have what they were having.
the funny thing is that i often forget that i have been caught.
i was so accustomed to writing and revering other people's relationships,
and i even began to tell myself that writing about them from afar was good enough than having my own.
so when i do write about people i see--these people in love--
or at least people i'd like to believe are in love...
i watch and i still long to learn. and i want to put them into words--that feeling into words.
i want to capture it up and understand,
and i love remembering that i--the person behind the pen--also have my own, personal story.
i know for certain that no one is watching from afar.
it'd be impossible, really.
and yet somewhere, in our own little era of time,
bargaining with time,
caught between distance,
and spanned up the west coast,
i have a little story to tell.
my own chase that i admire occasionally.
except i am caught.
splendidly, irrevocably, scarily caught.