My Inspiration Sings

As I gazed out over the empty baseball field, as I walked aimlessly along the black asphalt, I found myself aching for you. I wasn't alone, but I've never felt more lonely. I've only once felt your hand in mine, but as I dreamed of you, I could almost feel it once again.

"You feel straight at home here, don't you?" I'd ask.

You would laugh, a magical sound indeed, and we would continue walking in the silence. It wouldn't be minded, though; silence is as much a home to me as, say, a river is to a fish.

Our hands clasped together, connecting us in such a simple way, we would walk for such a long while; all cares that we ever had would be tossed aside because we would have one another. The world wouldn't seem like so terrible a place anymore. All the wonderful "would be's" in the world would be true to us then, in that time together.

But as I think of all this, how wonderful it would be, the loneliness hits me harder then ever before. People speak to me, and I hear them, but their words do not fill this empty hand of mine as it reaches for you. The silence that is my home is incomplete without you there; their words enter it and cause a deafening shatter. This gaping hole that was left by my heart feels emptier than it is, because you, who has the heart which left the hole, are not here beside me.

I long for you, I ache for you, I cry for you, I scream for you. Alas.

- My thoughts whilst walking this evening, 4-26-12