I don’t think either one of us wants to be normal. Standing in line with our shopping carts full of stuff that fill up the empty space between two lonely and desperate hearts that are fighting and fishing around dead memories and regurgitating regrets. We don’t want to interrupt the giggles we stifle behind our pressed lips that are about to explode in mischievous roars of delight as we sneak a kiss behind aisle 7.
We want to be extraordinary like the miles of miracles laid out in perfect precision for us, on a day as beautiful and majestic as a Clydesdale horse all adorned and on display. The moment when our eyes met on the eleventh day of December purposeful. God reuniting us, paving an intersection we might cross. Our hearts never intending to be casual friends.
We want to be Extraordinary like the love stories scattered across the globe that have giggled and snuck kisses longer than we’ve been alive.
Yesterday is gone. I am not alone. Not expected to wish upon a star for love.
I turn back to look down that familiar road and see nothing but a quiet moon offering just enough light at my feet to see my way back home to you.