Damn cramp in my leg and I can't believe it's Christmas time again.

I think I've skipped over the healing process one too many times. This time, someone needs to pass me a bottle of that peace of mind, because the soju isn't helping.

Perhaps it's the large crowds of people sweeping in and out of the bustling streets. Or the colorfiul lights drowning out the night sky in a cloud of artificiality. But I am quite certain that Christmas doesn't seem like Christmas this year. The tradition of spending time with one's family, having a simple and nice dinner, and attending midnight mass have been lost this Eve of Christmas. Instead, I sit at home, mindlessly tapping away at a keyboard, hoping that the tips of my fingertips do not let out in this stilting emotion.
Unsatisfied.
Only weeks ago, I could testify that the commotion of Seoul could bring me to a sense of belonging. But I now realize that the sense of belonging I search for lies only within my mind and heart. Fallen victim to a nonexistent stage of life, an imagined level of consciousness which requires little depth.

Passion. For life and the gifts God have granted. The relaxing sensation of finishing an engaging book, the proud satisfaction of jotting down a simple poem, or the dainty sound of piano keys on a sunny morning.

Last night I dreamed that some of my teeth fell out. Gray, diseased teeth dislodging from the back of my mouth and several front teeth twisting out. But in my dream, when I looked in the mirror, they were still there, the gray and disgusting teeth, lining my smile. It's difficult to understand it and after googling the dream, I realize that only my interpretation can be the correct one. As leaves fall listlessly, feelings change, and children age.

I have an affinity for dreams, passion, and true love.
I admit that I might be too much of a dreamer. But I believe that there must be a way. That moss grown path of flat gray stones and dew covered leaves, as my feet trot over the road, I have the widest smile on my face. This time it's not an ephemeral or overwhelming sense. Rather, what lies innate and calm.

Revelation. So sudden but it's definitely not too late. A slow smile creeping upon my face and the colors of the room fade into a deep haze of blue and beige. Velvet pajama bottoms and the simple thought of sleep talking and reading in a coffee shop on a rainy day. A heavy heart lies nowhere near what I might be able to find next.  
Ten, no twenty realizations but nothing as uplifting as such.
No better reason than love. Nothing more powerful than love. How simple. :)

Familiar voice over the line again. That deep chuckle insisting that worries are worthless. It's nearly midnight and we're on the line again, for what feels like eternity. We both understand it's where we belong.
And we realize that these habits are of old. Since we were 16. Has it already been that long?
Time slips through fingers like cold water,
Cup it in my shivering hands but in the end,
My hands are empty but they are wet. With already shed tears and memories I have lost.
I should have drank them in.
Memories which flutter like purple butterflies dancing among flowers that have already bloomed.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll out of bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe

Again, I return. For too long I had denied the truth of friendship, hiding in my mysterious cove of treasure and hell. Foolishness and weakness were my best friends yet you welcomed me home once again. And the truth remained.
My friend, it's been too long, but the goodness remains.
Aimless driving, miles and strips of road in front of us. No destination yet the stars mark our destiny.
Darting rapidly, the moon is but a sliver, a dagger behind the shadows of those trees. Don't look over there, you've got to drive. Hey, we're not eating pita pit this late at night but a chicken ceasar sounds irresistable. He's laughing again, this time because the radio speaks my mind. Switch the dial to the off position and the silence mutes my confusion. The soft crunching of tacos and chicken sandwhiches while the city lights streak across the windshield and we're in high school again.
Inexperienced and still innocent to what heart break really is and what it means to be whole. Only sixteen and unable to see beyond the maze of shadows ahead, our hearts and minds alert and open, unaware of the breaking and reparations that would stray in our paths. But when we're together, we're sixteen again.

The bitter cold nips at our noses and my hands are frozen in my pockets. Magnificent hues of reds and oranges sifting amongst the black and blue sky. A sort of perfection that I wish I could carry in my back left pocket and take out and look at whenever the sun falls low on the horizon. He understands this feeling, the kind of perfection I yearn for and was taken from me. And it's gone... 

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part.
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say good bye
Wondering would you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?

No, she can't.