you're a rock, i'm a gull. might be okay to stay if you could hold me, but you've got no way to do so.

every modern film cut out for anyone above age ten includes a bar scene with hazy smoke and burnt bridges being rebuilt over drinks. they laugh and they glance at each other and they wonder where the time went, and then they remember. tension grows and hostility rises and there they are, ten years previous with passion in their eyes. it's a fleeting moment of almost's and maybe's and whythefucknot's, before they're back in a bar and sharing awkward glances over drinks that ten years ago they never would've dove in to.

i wonder how much of a film is taken from real life.
and i wonder how many people sit in bars trying to find their whythefucknot's.
i wonder if they do.
i hope they do.
i hope they don't. i hope they can make it up in their mind. the awkward moment of broken tension when one of them confronts the other and it's finally stated you just weren't enough for me. and i hope that they walk away from the bar that night and feel like they found closure in that mixture that ten years ago they never would've tried. i hope they feel better by the time that they're in bed.

but more than likely, they won't.
and the next night, they'll be in a hazy room, looking for tenyearsback.

i wonder how much of a film is taken from real life.
and i hope that that's just a popular scene due to the emotion and the thought,
but not because it's so realistic.

i'd like to get lost in sunsets and blankets and coffee cups - yours, filled with tea. not hazy rooms with almost's. i think i'd die if you were ever an almost.