A guy on my old school romantic songs YouTube playlist is singing about how he’d really love to see this woman tonight and my kinda monk like mind falls into an irresistible reverie memory about how when it’s good it’s immeasurably good and sweetly incomparable.
My mind and heart become so wildly discombobulated with romantic feelings that I’m so drenched and drowning in them that I don’t come up for air as I begin dreamily thinking I’d rather have continuous, unending, real moments like really loving to see the right woman tonight than to experience a thousand nirvanas. Nay, ten thousand, maybe even more.
And I remember how when I was a teenager lifting weights at the YMCA and a beautiful, blue-eyed blonde teenage walking talking dream came into my life and I became so madly, so incredibly, so mind blowingly in love with her that I could no longer pump the iron because the iron could never compare to her sweetness her softness, her hugs, her kisses, her teenage seeming forever love.
Then I remember how she cheated on me. My mind gets an SOS. I throw myself a life buoy and gasping for clear headed air and sensibility, I climb onto the boat of reality and put away those silly, sappy, discombobulated romantic feelings.
Bob Boyd