I Fell in Love with Your Sin

We were so young then, so naive.  We thought we had everything figured out.  We believed in truth and beauty (and I don't mean the quarks).  I don't know why that photo triggered this feeling, but now I can't make it go away.  We never really talked, but when that photo was taken, there were some similarities between us and where we were in our lives.  And it was such a strange place to be, looking back on it.

Some explanation, some emotion, it's trying to dig its way out of me, and I don't know how to put it into words because I'm so wasted from a lack of sleep and general fatigue and a bad day thus far.  I don't at all miss the way things were then, but I miss how I felt.  Everything made so much more sense, even though we didn't realize anything.

And the strangest thing--we thought we knew what love was then.  I still don't know it now.  Looking back, how could we have been so happy?  How didn't they drive us to the points we both hit later anyway?  I wish I'd gotten to know this person better, if only because we were so similar until we became so absolutely and completely different.  And even then, I think there are more similarities than most would guess.

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Nobody ever says things outright anymore.  Not on those topics, anyway.  Everything is that, with a particular emphasis.  It's like saying the words would start something again, even though we all realize that it wouldn't.  It's never brought up anymore.  Sometimes it's alluded to.  It's like the giant gorilla in the room.  Everyone knows it's there, but no one brings it up.

I miss when we would talk about things brazenly and rashly.  When the words carried their meaning and didn't just imply an unmentionable doom.  Because you know what?  I miss it.  There are days when I miss that feeling like no other, and I know that right now, it's lost to me.  It's not something I can unlock again.  And part of me really, really wants a reason to do it anyway.

I miss when we never lied to others, but only ever to ourselves.  The tears gave the words away.  The actions spoke of things it would have taken novels to express in words.  Everything was so perfectly obvious then, and we always knew. And now look at us.  Each word, every action, all of it is about avoiding getting hurt.  We're terrified of pushing the limits because we feel like we're finally comfortable with where we are.

Except I'm not.

I miss the lines.  The edges.  The suspense and exhilaration that you can find only when you know exactly what's going to happen next but can never admit to yourself.  When everything was so fragile and unguarded that no amount of caution could stop it from being damaged, so no caution was exercised.

Something will happen eventually to knock me away from this mood.  I don't know what and I don't know when, but it'll have its time.  In the meantime though, I'll be just fine, pretending I'm not.  If only because I like it better that way.  Brownie points if you caught the lyrics in this post.