We watch each other from a far. Waiting for the right time. The time when we can be together. Or rather, the time when she will be with me. We wait and watch the world. I try to change myself so I don't want her all the time. I seek comfort in other arms hoping to escape her charms and perfections. But it never works and I leave, disgusting her with my womanizing, pushing us even further apart. The dance we dance is complex and impossible to explain to anyone. We were close once. Never had the world seen two as close as we. But misunderstandings and petty fights pushed us apart. Our pride keeps us from each other. She is too proud to come to me admitting her mistakes, and I am too proud to beg her to forgive me. We do not see each other very often. She keeps away so that old mistakes do not have to be faced. It isn't like I haven't tried to fix things with her, but she pushes me away, treating me as though she is better. She isn't. We are the same. Our hearts are one. Once, just once we were together. I was so happy; it seemed the very sun shone only for us. But then, the earth kept turning and the night fell. Fights, terrible fights drove us from each other and she has kept away since then.
There are always times, times when it seems all can be right again. We have danced around each other for enough time and I hold her in my arms and we are so close, so close to pure happiness. But then something happens. Anything happens. A distraction arises and she returns to 'sanity'. What is sanity? For me when I hold her, the world is clear and makes sense, but to her that is insane. She breaks away and it begins again.
This dance of ours.