This Is What I Think

www.thefancy.com

I'm in love with an idea.

An idea that taps me on the shoulder as it walks by without fail, an idea that gets every ounce of my humor, an idea that gnaws on my brain at night, suppresses my appetite, an idea that teases me, hugs me, makes me smile, an idea that sucker punches me in the gut with every misstep and mention of the other mind it's been in.
I tend to live in a world outside of reality when it comes to these kinds of ideas, because I don't want to know the truth about what I'm thinking-or what it's beginning to think. Perhaps it's because I've never been in love before, but I'm sure that I'm thinking, feeling, needing, wanting, knowing it now. It's not something that happens on the right side of the see-saw without happening on the other. It's not something I can mold out of play-doh and call it the name. I'm in the right place at the right time with the wrong ideas. Somehow I've managed to write a story out of the gray matter in my brain-it sits and I think about it-feeding it, keeping it strong, only to realize that this idea is feeding itself when I'm not able. Close as a kiss and distant as a middle school appropriated slow dance, I'm unable to determine the spark- should I turn my head to the left or right? Hands on shoulders or on the the lower back/ass?
Sometimes and often, I wonder if it is in fact, just me. Perhaps this idea doesn't think much of me at all like I think of it. Perhaps it is happy being a friendly thought without being a full-fledged idea. On the other hand, maybe this idea thinks something of itself that isn't 100% anymore and so it tests the water with my mind, the warmer one, the more inclined one.
I would go with it in a heartbeat, I would upset the balance in my life to go with it because this idea produces the three needs of a human being:
1. Air
2.Function
3.Purpose
This idea carries a cement block with it. It's laid upon me when the idea must go away so that I won't fly. It hurts my heart, suppresses air and makes me gasp for the feeling when it's gone. What will I do when it's gone? New ideas? New thoughts to burn in the dark at night?
I am in love with an idea.