So let me paint you the scene, I’m listening to Cold Play (of course) and it’s raining (I know right?) and I am in a big city (what else), thinking of you.
I’m thinking about you and it’s not in relation to me, not really and that got me thinking about freedom, my freedom to be exact. So I’ve finally figured out a way to define it, for myself at least, in the here and now, being free is arbitrary.
I saw her; on the sidelines where I used to stand on the rare occasion I was there and my heart did a back flip of jubilation, because she was happy to be there, unlike me. This means that you have let me go, really let me go in a way that I can only rejoice in it. To see you finally doing the things I had always wanted to do with you, with her – made me smile.
Which is why I am here, in this rain contemplating a future where I wake up in someone else’s arms. That I am even able to think of that future is my freedom. I am smiling under this haze of cloud and fog thinking of his arms and I am excruciatingly free.
The definition of that freedom is debating on how reasonable it is to do laundry more than once a week, deciding which pool we should barbeque by at the weekend, choosing between the new frozen yoghurt flavours at Menchies, trying to pick a date with someone and feeling like it could be a scene in a movie, agreeing that when two people disagree the world isn’t coming to an end, knowing that even if it feels like the world is ending (enter ‘The Rains of Castamere’) it’s going to be okay because you are in each others arms. It’s that oh so simple and wonderful life that sets one free from all their cynicism.
It is Monday afternoon, knowing the inevitable end is coming and we will never have to write to each other again.
It is knowing that there is someone who gets Tuesday love and walking home on a Wednesday after work, Thursday night drinks and hitting the snooze button on a Friday morning for cuddling and sunny Saturdays with the option of fall and forever in our hands.
Freedom is a Sunday afternoon, both of us no longer shackled to a sham, knowing my tears no longer have anything to do with you – flying kites.
Freedom is a life so simple and awesome, with the possibility of choosing between small everyday decisions and wondering about those big ones knowing that if freedom in turn leads to happiness, it is not always arbitrary, it was always a life without each other.