She Was, She Is, She Will Be

I am undoubtedly sorry for this because despite my every attempt to be true, fierce, and honest, I as the writer of this short trivial piece, will fail you.

When she came into view and sat down in my car, the feeling that said I was right where I was supposed to be washed in and around me and brought a smile to my heart that only mirrored slightly on my face. I hoped that she felt the same.

I could go on about the specifics of the night but for you, the reader, it doesn’t matter. What I want to tell you is how beautiful she was, how beautiful she is. Even though it’s been some time since I’ve seen her, every strain of thought somehow winds itself back to her.

I could tell you in every cliché how perfect she was. I could say that her imperfections were perfect for me. I loved maybe a subtle scar on her face, or a birthmark. She could have had a tattoo visible somewhere on her that she regretted. And we laughed when she told me the story of how it came to be.

But this has nothing to do with loving imperfections. It has nothing to do with perfections either. It has everything to do with her. What was her, what is her, and what she will be. I thought of everything I don’t know about her. Every moment in her life from the time she crawled on floors to learning to tie a shoe, to learning to drive a car has changed her into who she is now in front of me. Every exchange, conversation and action affected her and made her into who she was underneath. And although this can be said about anyone, even myself, it was her that somehow walked into that place at the exact time that our paths would cross.

They say there are chemicals in your brain that trigger the feelings of love and lust. And I don’t argue that at all, I’m sure it’s all true. But how does that lessen the impact of someone who makes those chemicals rage inside your mind?

I told you at the start that I would fail you as a writer. And true to my word, I have. I’ve set out to describe the one you love. The one I love. The one, maybe, I will love. But songwriters, poets, and artists will always fail trying to pin down love because it’s only when you can understand, explain, and define something, it loses significance and meaning. I can’t explain love, I will never understand it, and I will flail in attempts to define it. We can only give examples in fiction.

But when I look at her, when I was there in her presence, laughing and sharing stories, I’d like to think that for one fleeting moment that passed by so quickly, I saw love. She was, she is, she will be.IMAG0037.jpg

Show & Tell

It’s show and tell time boys and girls!
What’s your favorite book and why?
Let us know in the comments why you love this one book more than the rest.

Mine is The Name of the Wind. I’m in love with this book because I don’t like fantasy books yet, this story captivates me each time I read it. Patrick Rothfuss is a master of words who weaves them together into something beautiful.

Now it’s your turn!

Thank you for reading
Zac Zinn

A Gleam Of Light – One Night

A Gleam of Light
1/22/15

Tell me a story that you’ve never had the words to tell.
Tell me of a night you never wanted to end.
When you laughed like a child walking down a well-lit city street.

Will you take a small journey with me?
Will you go on a brief vacation from the world with me?

A gleam of light hits her eyes and you see a small piece of your own personal heaven in them. Her rich irises of green shine through you and make you feel weightless. Those eyes become a drug you can’t stop taking.
There’s warmth between your hands when they touch. The friction increases against your skin and lessens between your smiles. Your mind races from idea to idea because even at your sanest moment, you can’t understand the extension of bliss you feel.
Even at that chaos, you’re aware of the friction between your hands. Holding hers, you let the friction turn to spark. The spark lit to a brief flame as your lips press against the top of her hand. A move that lets her know you’re not after her body but after her heart. When you see a smile form from pure happiness on her face, you know that you have it.
Your timing in yesteryears has always seemed to be off somehow but in this night… it all comes together.
But at some point she gives a sigh that sounds of sadness. Doubt penetrates your head and you think that maybe this was only a one night vacation from a lonely life. When the reality of life sets in, maybe this night is only supposed to stay within those hours.
The sun is peaking over the horizon as the first breaths of morning hit your nose. Your hands are no longer touching and you’re sitting at a bus stop bench. There’s sadness in the air because the night you didn’t want to end, is finally ending. With the bus only five or ten minutes away, you’re struggling to find the words to say. You need to say something to give some amount of reassurance, but the words escape you. Settling for the comfort of touch, you slide closer to her and wrap your arm around her. Resting her head against you, she quickly falls asleep after the long and exciting night.
The night is over
Morning is here
The fear of what today and tomorrow holds rests inside
But when you watch her clouded exhales leave her mouth you think
People either get something fast or forever.
This night felt like a flash of light much like that first gleam that reflected from her eyes.
You find yourself asking a question to which you can’t find the answer.
Is it too much to ask for fast and forever?

1/22/15

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Thank you for reading
Zac Zinn