I've been writing for a long time, well before I ever met you. I've been good at it too. Though as of late I've hit this plateau, this fog of not-lovers sparking inspiration you give to Me. I ask you to forgive the flowery romantic imagery I may lay upon this paper with My words in advance... it's too common to use in description of what we share, of who you are but the ink that flows from My mind embellishes it the only way I know how.
I know, you are not some Ancient Greek god, no pixie, no unicorn from a fantasy fairy tale. I know you're not put here for Me entirely, you've a life before and after... you're story isn't written for only Me to see and enjoy. I know you're real, flesh and blood, human... a regular joe. Yet wait, you're so much more. Extraordinary, exemplary, and exhilarating. Yes those are the words I'd use to describe you. You're nothing short of a muse, My muse.
I didn't search for you and you didn't chose to be My muse. I don't even know if you realize you've been so lately, because I've not told you. To talk about how one inspires Me and challenges Me in the depths that you have isn't common place. I know our love is a platonic one filled with desire and longing that we wrestle with, not wanting to cross a line for the love is founded in a difficult place. A place that isn't very gracious in it's possibilities for anything more. To try to comfortably tell you and explain that you're My muse could perhaps be a put-off of My intentions.
The risk of running you off knowing what you mean to Me is one I'm not comfortable with but nor am I comfortable with holding anything back. Life is too precious to hold back, isn't it?!
If I told you that I want you around all the time so I can talk to you and be inspired, would you care? Would proclaiming Myself to you and showing you that you're My muse make you run into the forest frightened or would it make you stop, transfixed on Me as I am you?
You’ve been showing up, in bits and pieces, in my writing — at first, a quip or quote here or there but soon, a fully-formed epic sprang forth from my head like Athena from Zeus’s crown. (It’s an overblown and overused metaphor, for sure. But it seemed appropriate given the outdated nature of your even being a muse, right? I mean, let’s not split hairs. Some of these lines are indeed your fault.)
To update it, maybe like Leo and Kate in Titanic, you can sprawl naked on my couch and I’ll sit with my Macbook open, typing away — occasionally looking up, tongue wedged between my teeth in focus — capturing your essence, your silhouette, your humor, your jawline. I’d paint it into Microsoft Word, everything you make me feel and think and then simply slap it up onto a blog where it will be consumed within minutes. Where no one will care about the complex nature of what I feel, beyond me — and maybe you?
It’s less romantic than the arts of years gone by that you may be used to; what with the storied history of the muse. We live in a time where these things are more functional than flattering and for that, muse, I apologize. You certainly deserve more.
I want to study you as you've studied Me. I want to research you like a historical event or a scientific anomaly. Who cares what aspect of quantum mechanics is being uncovered today? Not Me... I want to know what you think about comic book movies. I want to capture the way your hands move. I want to decipher your voice. Watch your submission grow and develop into the artwork I know you are. I want to take control of your expressions, give them character with ink, and watch them come to life.
Oh, I’ve gained so much because of you, My muse. But I have also lost, don’t you see? Throughout time and history and art and stories, the creator will always lose. In this, though, as the creators of bygone years, I too will willingly lose for the integrity of My art as well as the company of My muse.
You may be miles and miles away from Me but in spirit, in heart, and in love you are right here with Me.... inspiring Me every day. Hasn't it been said that at times you have to be apart from the people you love. That doesn't make you love them any less, in fact at times it makes you love them all the more.
My bryan, My friend, My muse... Thank you from the depths of My heart.
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If you, yes you reader, have any questions you'd like answered or any
topics you'd like Me to discuss or rant on please feel free to email Me
at
MistressAmandaCrystine@gmail.com.
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