It's ironic (read: stupid) because you are the line in my life that separates before and after. And like these lines, you bleed from before to after in a way that makes me think of you every time anything happens, because I always wish it was with you it was happening. You are the line between love and loveless, attached and unattached, sane and insane. You are the line I wish I could break. You are the line that takes me over, wrapping me up like a rope in a BD/SM scene gone horribly wrong, and then suddenly a lifeline pulling me up from the cliff I am hanging.
On one side of the line, I know my love for you is mundane; something you have experienced thousands of times every week... but on the other side, I am here alone, never experiencing this before... And I know this: on one side of the line, you will back away. And on the other side of the line, you will try to reach for me.
And neither will be enough...
Not because you are not enough... In fact, for the exact opposite reason. You are completely and fully enough. You are more than enough, if I am honest with myself and you. But, I am not. I am somehow broken and wrinkled, around these lines... completely incapable of being ironed flat, washed and rewashed, like your new Levis.... my heart will not behave.
And that's ok. I don't mind.
But these lines grow deeper every day. Each time we try to make this work; every effort to make your square peg fit into this hexagonal hole...
So now I know I need to draw a line, hard, deep, visible, and strong. Now I know you are the line between up hill and down hill. Except, here it can be up hill both ways and I am too tired to keep peddling toward and then away from the line between you and after you.