The day a poet discovers the most perfect girl, he will be the happiest man alive and he may have hard days ahead of him, but he will never ever be sad.
Even if sadness grazes him, he will think about her, and that will calm him down more than any pills he’s ever had to take.
he will daydream about her at work, see her face on the front shield of his car, picture her when he’s with boring people (and not be that bored anymore).
The only thing, however, that will trouble him a little, is his writing. because almost all his life, all he ever knew, was to channel his sadness into writing. that’s why he began writing in the first place. he’d get sad, and his notepad with a pen would be where he’d go.
but now, he doesn’t get sad. remember? so now, he can’t write anymore.
A lot of his friends, family, and fans will tell him “hey, it doesn’t always have to be sad. write happy stuff.”
and he groans, but he tries. I swear to god he tries. he spends 4 hours trying to write something about her. but all he accomplishes in those 4 hours, is an empty sheet, and constant blushy red cheeks.
she has a habit of distracting him, you see.
so now, every passing day, he tries writing. at first, he gives it four hours, on a go. then it reduces to three. then to one. eventually, he just loses touch to his writing.
Because writing for him was always an escape. an escape from the pain. a brief escape from his depression. but now, he has a new escape.
her. And so, he turns to her, from time to time, and she, with time, calms him down. in a way that none of his words could ever compare.
Fast forward to ten years, he’s retired from poetry. and eventually, slowly, but eventually, people forget his existence. some remember but remember him in incomplete puzzles.
but he’s somewhere, in a country far away from his hometown, with no sadness ever being able to touch him. because his escape, remember, that perfectly imperfect woman? he’s married to her.
and so, fast forward to five more years, he’s telling his kids: the story of how poetry initially saved his life. but then, it was their mother, who saved him, from all of it