moon river

Am I crazy because I watch old movies by myself and cry until my eyes sting?
I hold the pillow close to my chest and unconsciously whisper a prayer for every broken heart, every racing heartbeat and happy ending, a quiet plea escaping my lips pretending it is my own heart breaking, my heart racing and my happy ending.
Like ribbons of ink and bones the film is like a canvas of my soul.
I don't understand how music and books and films can move me so. It's like they tuck my hair gently behind my ear and know it's exactly what it takes to get me going, to turn me on, and to make my heart do a summer-salt.
When they sing songs of dream makers and summer palaces and unchained melodies of the raw heart I just don't know what to do with myself. I want to cry, but then I want to sing with them and slow dance with a person that isn't even there.
I watch too many movies on my own.
I think that's part of my problem.
My heart is so big it doesn't know what to do when something wants to share it--it just comes undone and then sits there next to my folded knees on the couch as I pop another old movie in and drown myself in the beauty of a moving screen and touching music and stories I can vaguely dream of having, but somehow feel like they are my own story of my life. Somehow...
Somehow I want to slow dance every day, but seem to find the closest partner my empty room or the empty couch, or a movie as lonely and understanding as myself.
All old movies are the same.
I love that so much.
-k.p.b.