Time is Precious

If I could weave the hours into gold, time would be precious. Then you could love me again, and I could glow. We could have time appraised for what it is worth now, not what it could be or what it used to be. Then you could smile when you see me, knowing that next time may not be so sweet.

We could make our time together shine again, like when we first slipped these rings on our hearts and warned eachother it could be years before we took them off. We wore our love carefully at first but ... what's the sense in wearing something you can't be comfortable in? So we played in the mud and spilled our food. We tore ourselves up climbing trees as high as the sky just to be with eachother, because we knew that beyond the nice clothes and the big house and the fast cars, our time together was worth the most. We gave up a lot to have eachother, and we really believed ...

I really believed it would work. I could wake up next to you in a straw bed with one dress to wear in a one-room house but you'll always resent me. You want to trade me in for a better car, a TV with a bigger screen, and a house with vaulted ceilings. It all seems like such a big deal to you that I often wish I could see your way of thinking. Then we could finally take off those rings and wait patiently for the marks they left to disappear.

Instead, I'm watching your heart heal while mine is infected with guilt and grief. And I'll always question why my love wasn't enough to keep you from wanting your Things. Why wasn't I good enough?

I still can't help but think that our time is precious, and if only I could weave the hours into gold you might believe it, too.