Predicted.

It seems he only finds himself talking to God when his phone rings.

Almost as if he hears the trumpets blow. Or maybe the church bell ring. Sounds a bit different but… results in the same thing.

And it is always because of you.

Truth? She might become the very reason why he loses his faith. But.. that’s pretty easy to do in this day in age.

You see, it feels like God keeps missing his cue. “Where are you now? I need you now. Please, just tell me what to do”.

He often finds himself down on his knees. It gets to a point where he has to try desperately to think of something to say to God other than “please”.

Please?

Please!

Please...

He tries not to portray a man on the brink of hysteria.

Please. Please? Please! Please…

Yes he is… very close to losing it.

It’s the silence. The silence holds so much in all it’s empty space. The memories. The potential. The wishes. The dreams. The future he built on imaginary sandcastles. The waves won’t wash them away and shifting sand won’t break them down. They are safe in his mind.. in the silence.

He almost prefers the chaos in his mind, because in the silence, he remembers…

She was an independent dreamer. With her head in the clouds, she tripped on her dreams and fell into reality, rendering rather remarkably real regrets.

And he... well he battled his own demons, so dreaming was on the back burner. He was a people pleasing drama king with a crown made of silver linings.

And as she gave up the stars to try to keep her head down, he looked up from his golden gutter.

Their eyes met.

He saw dreams in her eyes.

She saw stars in his.

Can’t decide if it was a perfect match or mismatch, yet, either way, it was a connection. Even now, the space between them feels so small, and… STOP!

Please!

Ruled by the desire to know what it feels like to fall in love, and not smash his knees into cold hard concrete, but to land on his feet, or better yet, to have someone catch him, and-

END THIS. This… dream or fantasy.

Let go. Let it go.

Please?!

Can’t make it go.

She shows up.

In his playlist, television shows, day dreams, nightmares, and even in his work. Memories and visions of her lurk in the darkest corners and in pure daylight. The memories do not hide. These memories are very proud and happy participants in all that his imagination can score up.

Deep breaths.

He tries to think about other things… other people….

Between every line, every inhale, every spoken word, every stutter, every pause, every facial expression, every written word, every page break, between every paragraph and every single punctuation…

He leaves space for her.

So much time has passed since his fingertips left her body for the last time, but everything is still in tact.

In everything he does, he is always looking at her, and always wondering if he will ever catch her looking back, and if she is-

PLEASE!!!

Can’t take it! Can’t breathe. Can’t see, close your eyes. But these thoughts?! Open your eyes. More thoughts? Tune out with music. Need to move, stand up. Too loud! No, just turn it down. Turn it off. Can’t think, can’t stand, take a seat… can’t-

Just two little words…

Her name appears on his screen.

“Hey you”.

Then…

A wave of ease.

His breath released.

His faith regained.

The feeling of having his beliefs sustained.