The First Time I Loved Forever

I have determined that I don't really care for being in a good mood.
It seems like, everytime I find myself in a particular good and happy mood,
there is inevitably something or someone that just completely yanks the proverbial rug from beneath my feet. Personally, I feel it's just easier on the senses to be, at most, in a so-so- mood. That way, when the rug is pulled out, a body doesn't have so far to fall.
I'm all about pain minimalization: I'm really not (much of) a masochist, despite my newly-developed interest in quilting...

On a lighter note, I have been reacqainted with a song from a series I watched faithfully when I was younger. It was a fairy tale romance that all little girls dream about (and many still do, though they may not admit it) A story of a star-crossed romance and deep abiding love, and pure and deep bond that could be felt even across the space of a continent.

The First Time I Loved Forever

(featuring excerpts from "somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond" a poem by E.E. Cummings)

(Song featured in the series Beauty and the Beast, starring Linda Hamilton and Ron Perlman)

sung by Lisa Angelie

Somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which I cannot touch because they are too near

The first time I loved forever

Was when you whispered my name

And I knew at once you loved me

For the me of who I am

The first time I loved forever

I cast all else aside

And I bid my heart to follow

Be there no more need to hide

And if wishes and dreams

Are merely for children

And if love's a tale for fools

I'll live the dream with you

Or if your wish be to close me,

I and my life will shut very beautifully ,

suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending

For all my life and forever

There's a truth I will always know

When my world divides and shatters

Your love is where I'll go

I do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

by E. E. Cummings
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

(full poem found on Poets.org)