took back my heart but it's never been the same
A party on the beach, and everyone's invited. Sounds like your idea of... well, some sort of time.
Once upon a time you would have been the first to show up. You would have helped with the setup and greeted incoming guests with a brilliant grin and a booming laugh. You would have chased children and hugged friends and given strangers a clap on the back. And El would have stood beside you, chiding you while charming the pants off of everyone, and Ray would be running around your legs with a gaggle of his friends, and life would be good.
Now, though? You're still helpful, but hardly a beacon of joy. You still find work to do, but you don't volunteer to do it all. You still greet the people you know, but it's a monochrome version of a vibrant man, the ocean in doldrums after a storm. Arriving with another armful of liquor carried forRaza, you set it down with at Mik's direction, leaving it with the rest.
Straightening up with your hands in your pockets, you look out on the assembled crowd. Most of the faces are familiar enough, and you even smile crookedly at the sight ofSamuel stupidly bravely approaching Jack, of all people. Maybe you oughta rescue the kid, but then, he's probably glad for the break from you.
So you meander over towardSaiden instead, itching for something to do. "Hey, Sai.. smells mighty good. Need a hand, mate?" For the love of the Gods, give me something to do, your coffee-brown eyes beg over your almost-smile.
Once upon a time you would have been the first to show up. You would have helped with the setup and greeted incoming guests with a brilliant grin and a booming laugh. You would have chased children and hugged friends and given strangers a clap on the back. And El would have stood beside you, chiding you while charming the pants off of everyone, and Ray would be running around your legs with a gaggle of his friends, and life would be good.
Now, though? You're still helpful, but hardly a beacon of joy. You still find work to do, but you don't volunteer to do it all. You still greet the people you know, but it's a monochrome version of a vibrant man, the ocean in doldrums after a storm. Arriving with another armful of liquor carried for
Straightening up with your hands in your pockets, you look out on the assembled crowd. Most of the faces are familiar enough, and you even smile crookedly at the sight of
So you meander over toward
maybe love is a young man's game
