Love · 3:56am Oct 24th, 2014

I was digging through my google docs, and I found an exploratory piece of writing my teacher had me write in April when we were going over emotive writing. The object of the paper was to write about an emotion without actually saying the name of the emotion.

“We kiss on the mouths, but we still cough down our sleeves.” - Isaac Brock.
It is there, when you walk through the hallway and hear her laugh at the same joke you did. When he is waiting to take you home after a rough day, you’ll feel it. Even after the passion has faded, smiling along with a simple routine, when she is alongside you, lets you know it is still around you. When you rush to the hospital, and she smiles at you from her cot, your child in her hands, it will overwhelm you. When he puts down his bottle and joins you by the television, it will slowly fill up the room. Feeling the warm fur coat as he jumps into yours arms, laughing as he licks your face and his cold, wet nose bumps against your cheeks, it’ll be all you think about. When she smiles up at you, handing you a crayon drawing with her name proudly written on the side, it explodes forth from the world around you. When he takes his things and leaves, as you stand under the doorframe with an earthquake raging around you, it will flee during the tremors. When you give everything you can, just to see her be happy with someone else because you know she can’t be happy with you, it’ll stand beside you. When she kisses your scraped knee and hugs you as you whimper from the pain, it’ll slowly pass from one to another. When you pick up the phone and laugh and sob and smile and cringe from all the words she speaks to you, it can be felt over those oceans and cities and mountains and throngs of people. When you stand by a freshly dug plot of earth, her body being lowered into the ground, you will understand what it really was. When you go home and finally delete his number from your mind, knowing that you will never hear the voice again, so matter how hard you pray for him to spring from the earth, living and unharmed, ready to feel again, it will be everything. When you finally put her to sleep, sighing as the doctor lets you know that there was nothing you could do to save her, it will break you.
When you hear their voice again, echoing through the cloudy ethereal dreams that haunt your nights, you’ll wish it had never been there at all.
You won’t for long, though.

Is it stupidly sentimental? Probably, but I felt like sharing it. It wasn't doing anything but gathering dust inside of my docs, anyway.

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