2015 01 03 23.19
Amanda Palmer - "Do You Swear to Tell the Truth the Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth so Help Your Black Ass"
I do remember the first time I saw You and my thoughts at that very moment. Clearly as day I remember thinking: "I should avoid him at all cost". And then I stopped myself: "Why?". Curiosity that killed the cat was already in that moment. But I had to slap an apologetic label on that thought and move along. So I did. "He reminds me too much of a particular someone". Boy, have I been wrong! Particular someone is long since gone into the forgotten and now I know that one is nothing like the other. And that first impressions are normally just a hint of the truth.
So, there we were, two strangers stuck in a city far from home, in a bar in a hostel, sitting next to each other. Coincidences, coincidences everywhere. To this day it all appears to me a bit too much a work of fiction. I mean, what are the odds? We could probably squeeze out a pretty decent Hollywood script out of this story!
So, two people, one suddenly way better at listening than she is and one better at telling personal stories than he normally is. Just better together.
Click.
Something just clicked. I really thought that I grew out of things like these or that I no longer believed in them and yet there I was on a dusty sidewalk in Prague having cigarettes and conversation and generally the time of my life. With a complete stranger.
And I remember the pale morning light in the garden the next day and how You held my hand never wanting to let go and how You looked at me, something glistening in Your eyes that made me feel like a queen and the boring cliche compliment that suddenly felt so special: "Oh my god, Your eyes are so blue!"
Above all I remember the feeling. That I was brought back to life. On my wedding night that never happened. The irony and the ecstasy... I suddenly breathed fully, lived fully. I was whole again. And no, sex had nothing to do with it, Not at all!
That feeling did not go anywhere. Feelings in general did not go anywhere. They just grew and thrived and were urged along by little confessions, hidden in bits and pieces, short sentences and not so short smiles.
Wait, I am now going to?...
[Bet Your Black Ass That I'm Going To]
Author: Nida /
* sings along with Amanda *
"I've already spent too much time
Doing things I didn't want to.
So if I want to tell You I love You tonight,
Bet Your black ass that I'm going to"
There we go. All better now. I let that demon out of myself. After all, if I could accept that not-so-cheap ticket, I can do this as well. And forget my no hugging, no kissing (in public) Northern European all very independent woman self, who said she'll never use the L word, because words are just labels.
Well, bullocks.
We are all going to die.
Might as well do what I want.
You're not my dad, You're not to tell me.
I've already made too much fuss about it as it is.
Now there's only the why left (who asks why You love someone? I know You will though).
Because.
Because I did not like You the first time I saw You.
Because I still can't believe how unreal all this is.
Because You make me laugh. Hard.
Because You make me do some other things. Very hard.
Because I can't explain it all, but I look at You sleeping and I'm full of very warm and fuzzy feeling and want to stay in that moment forever and walk on tip toes to not wake You and guard Your sleep like Smaug guards the piles of gold.
Because You make me very happy even while fifteen thousand kilometers away.
Because it actually gets better everyday and it's a process.
And finally because You make me write things like these.
DEAL WITH IT
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