Magic, Cynic

Could it for once be something... more? Something that wasn't entirely schemed, planned out and calculated from every direction? Couldn't there be that look across the room, across the road, the sound of her light steps on the floor, on the pavement? Could there be an honest smile? Could there be gentle eyes? Wiping away every inch of me that is cynic and tough. Wiping it away with the magic.

I'm not a romantic in person. Not in the way of pink glouds (yes, glouds), glitter and a big fancy marriage in a church, or getting so attached to your other half that that's exactly what you become - half a person. Two people joined together as one, losing all identity and touch. Not in the way of believing that love is something that gets stronger over the years, rather than losing all of its introductory charm. I know that what you feel for someone can be strengthened by the day. I was there, I've felt it, I know it. And it was different from other things I known. But the deep part of me, the one deep inside that doesn't act like me, speak like me, think like me; that part didn't disappear. There were still feelings of being chained to the ground. It was because I hadn't found the right one. I had found someone I let very close, someone who it hurt to love. But it wasn't the one. Couldn't been.

If there is such a thing as a soulmate, how does it work? Can you really just find one person that is that mirror of yourself, without becoming your replica; and if it doesn't work out that's it? We've blown it? I doubt it, it just doesn't feel right, but when did life feel right? When was life fair, last time I checked? And if there are indeed odds that we will find that one person who's completely right for us, the odds that it will last seem to shrink beside it, in comparison.

I'm not looking for something perfect, something magical, or something that was meant to be. I just wish I wasn't looking at all. And if indeed I wasn't, I'd accidentally stumble upon something small, that was real. Something that was not calculations made on a match making site, an assumption of attraction only based on our sexual identities, something that wasn't a random and shallow encounter in some bar just to be left the day after. Maybe I'm just not cut out for it. I make it out to be as though I was left and hurt while friends of mine don't find it odd at all to be thrown away like a useless rag after use. Some call it casual, that we all have needs, that it's all done on equal demands.

But is it?

We're shallow people, we've lost our faith in romance. I don't remember what it's like to cast a look across a room and meet a pair of eyes and you just instantly know that there's a connection. I don't remember what it's like to kiss someone sober, in a magical moment, a first kiss full of anticipation and desire. I don't know what it's like to have someone close to you that doesn't feel like a burden, that gives you energy rather than taking it away.

Why am I up at this hour, why am I like this again, will things never turn back to normal? I want to be the person I used to be, I want to believe, I want to feel there is something out there for me, someone, someone with those pretty shoes. Someone witty and smart, and reassuringly odd, an Alice, a little girl. I don't wanna be up at 4.11 AM on a Saturday night staring at a screen at words that feel dead to my eyes even as I type them. I don't want to feel like I'm dead, like I'm dying away from everything that's worth living.

I don't wanna wait. I don't wanna wait for everything to work out eventually. I want things now and I want them good, I want it all, I'm done with substitutes, which everything that's trivial and doesn't matter. I want this month to race by because in a new city I can have a new start and a new life and who knows maybe just a grain of something that resembles love.

Something that's real.

Just a look. With those sparkling eyes.
I want to know when I will find you.
When I will find her.
So I know if it'll be worth my wait.

POET IN THE JAR