potentional

I'm gonna write about her. I'm gonna do it. There will be quite a lot of blogger.com saved drafts and Moleskine notebook pages of scribbled prose. And yet I'm so cautious about doing it. Like, almost afraid - which I should be, considering the pain I have experienced. Still, it doesn't always feel like defense as much as a steadfast patience. That is something new, and in its own way exciting. The eve is always better than the day, I think. The potential of love's lightness intrigues me more now, and "meeting her in the middle" is a thousand times more fair that the "fair" I've settled for. But I am not writing about her beauty now. I am not expounding for pages on the curls of her smile and soft response of her skin. This is me predicting those pages. This is something we call "potential".