Journal: 11/17/07 (Muse)

Journal: 11/17/07 (Muse)

A Story by Querida

I've discovered it, lucky me.  Figured out why my writing has flowed so easily lately, why I need only think of a certain someone to make poems fly from my mouth only seconds after they blossom in my mind.  He is my muse.  How can that be, though?  I don't love him as anything more than a friend.  Well, to be honest, I do.  But his friendship is more important to me, and my crushes tend to come and go with surprising speed.  I won't tell him how I feel.


But even when I am dating other people, when I'm crushing hard on someone, I still am never as consumed with ideas as I am now, when I can still imagine his voice in my hear.  Soft and husky, a temptation to any girl who is so lucky to hear it.  My muse, though?  I can't be right, but it looks as if I am.


Then again, I should think about this.  We are friends, yes.  But he has created more drama in my life than I have experianced for a long time.  And I write about drama.  It is the simple creation of drama, a backbone of the theater group, that allows me to throw out words with surprising clarity.


He is my muse.  Strange as that sounds, his words and music excite me.  I can't help but wonder what would happen if we edged farther than friendship, let hands and lips wander like they did one night a while ago.  But I won't allow such a thing to happen.  Friendships must stay so.  I will ignore the sayings that claim that a male and a female can never be friends without something more growing between them.


I shall stay strong in the face of his voice, hard as that is.  I just wish he knew...he's my muse.

© 2008 Querida

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Added on February 7, 2008




Let's start anew, without the prejudices and pains of the past to haunt the beginning of an era. Querida is not my real name, but it has become me, in my years online. more..