Unintentional

We are a hiccup of the universe. The stars weren’t meant for us. That’s what everyone says. And you, my love, you say it too.

So I’m listening to music trying not to love you and just when I think it’s possible, a song plays and the lyrics go, “Stuck in my head, stuck in my heart, stuck in my body. I want to run away with you.” And that’s exactly how I feel.

We are a smudge on a canvas. The artist never meant to paint us. That’s what everyone says. And you, my love, you say it too.

So I’m sitting on my bed trying not to love you, then I look outside the window and the sun is setting and I see your face flirting with me between pink and purple hues. And that’s exactly how I feel.

We are an accidental note in a musical composition. The symphony wasn’t meant for us. That’s what everyone says. And you, my love, you say it too.

So I’m meditating trying not to love you. But my mind wonders and I remember that it’s you I run to when my world breaks. It’ s you I run to when my heart is full of joy. When I’m lonely. When I’m successful. When I fail. It’s you I run to when I’m burning with desire. And that’s exactly how I feel.

We are an idea outside the box. The scholar never meant to come to our conclusion. That’s what everyone says. And you, my love, you say it too.

But to me it’s clear that trying not to love you is like trying not to breathe. It can be done for a while, but it’s impossible to do for a really long time. I -- would die. And that’s the law of nature.

We are an anomaly of invention. The scientist never meant to discover us. That’s what everyone says. And you, my love, you say it too.

And I agree, because the scientist will tell you that his most important discoveries were anomalies. The artist will tell you that her most beautiful paintings were caused by smudges. And where would the universe be without hiccups?

We are the unintentional ingredients that make things better. That’s what everyone means. And you, my love, you feel it too.

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