Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly. – Rose Franken
I miss laughter in my life, the kind of laughter that comes from being able to be completely yourself around another person. I can laugh sometimes but it’s a shallow laughter, a laughter that only draws from the very top of my internal well. The rest of the time, life is a like a somber sleepwalk. Silliness is no longer part of my repertoire.
I miss being at ease with another person, because I don’t even feel at ease when I’m alone.
I miss not worrying about being my goofy stupid self. It seems impossible that someone else could appreciate that part of me, let alone love that part of me. We laughed, and we were really stupid around each other, and we enjoyed each other’s silliness. I started writing out some of the silly things we used to do, but I deleted them because I was afraid that if they took the form of words they would cease to belong to me, that they would somehow mean less. So I’m choosing to keep them to myself as a memory, as a buried treasure worthy of protecting, as a reminder that someday these memories will be my reality again.