You Can't Go Home Again
2004-06-22 04:49:32 (UTC)

Sea and The Rhythm

Well there you have it folks. A boy and his tears. What
could of left our heartbroken hero where he lay? Why of
course, the heroine. The boy saw the baseball coming the
entire time. He just thought it was somthing else. He hoped
it was something else. Last time our hero was hit in the
face with a baseball, he has the same feeling right before
it. Like when people get headaches right before a
thunderstrom because of the drop in barometric pressure,
there he was. The feeling in his stomach. Just a matter of
time before she asked for the time. The time alone. It
wasn't a breakup, she just needed time. Away from the hero.
The hero is now the wash up that wasn't good enough for
the time being. The hero looks at his watch, patienty, with
a desperate sense of hope, but a patient sense of hope.
Sure, he gave her the time to herself. But how long, he
wondered. This was the question. He has hope. She said
everything was going to be alright. The heros heart grows.
Then he asks the question, "Other people?"

"I don't know."

Anyone that's ever been around people knows that "I don't
know" usually means the worse, wether it's yes or no.

But he has hope. He still loves her. She still loves him.
Certainly no more, yet certainly no less. The song is over
but the symphony goes on. The composer may be dead, but the
conducter, I, the conducter, is far from dead.

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