tapered edges and exasperrated glances

we shared the latter. in a sense of maturity, perhaps? or maybe i was just going along with it because you, in your nature, initiated such an aura of it. either/or, i felt rather collected, despite random outbursts of my silly actual self. the lion purrs.

the former does not mean the attraction is any less--rather, a sudden and surprising mature sense has settled itself over it. the physicality of it is still there, of course, but not screaming, it has taken a seat in the middle of the bus. everything else non-physical--personality, mannerisms, and such--has broken the cold, clean surfaces, but the waves on the water don't break as sharply as they do on rocks and then die away; they just ripple continuously instead. which, most offhandedly, i prefer in this case.

so i suppose this means that when the time for actual heartbreak is supposed to arrive, the pain won't be sharp, and recovery will be quick. more of a purplish bruise than a scar that loves to loiter before reluctantly healing.

i don't think i can fall back to liking those who are more similar to me in big ways ever again after this. as gentle the waves are (to the point where lightbeams make their way through to once foggy, now-clearing, vision), they still overwhelm me, albeit a little less: does maturity come with a sense of being able to breathe when still underwater?

-d