My Internet has been down; this was supposed to be Thursday's (5 July) post.
The first meeting was a thrill.And do you remember that soccer game? Re-tracing these steps only evokes memories - some long forgotten, others prolly unwanted but mostly surreal, and very much alive. So I guess, that's how it is, that we all ended up as players, only subject to a different game.
You'd possession of the ball, 'til you threw it over. And we were on the same side, working together t'ward the goal. Our goal. Saw it ahead of me, gave it my best and took the shot. But, perhaps it just didn't suffice. Fell; our rhythm broke. And there right before me was another to break my fall, the opposition.
This time, how did we hit it off? Everything just seemed to fall into place. And you, the former, receded back behind that centre line, only to divert your attention to the defender on this side, no longer assuming the role of the aggressor.
But now we're nearing the end, and it's not only 'til everything began to fall through that I found myself too caught up in the game. I don't want to take sides no longer; I just want to return home, to sweet glory.
How's it going to end? We'll own, I hope.
This love is killing me,
But you're the only one.
Listening: You - Switchfoot