I Believe in Cliché
Yes, that's right. I believe in Cliché. I believe in laying beneath the stars on a deserted beach as a crescent moon slowly drifts across an ocean of stars, in deep midnight blue waves crashing on darkened sand, and in palm trees swaying behind a soft and stolen kiss. Yes, I believe in clichés, in standing at the top of a jagged mountain and proclaiming victoriously, "I love you!" or perhaps simply "I am alive!" and maybe even in an answering echo from someone else's lips. I believe in raindrops, in raindrops that keep falling on my head, an orchestra, a wild symphony, a beautiful cacophony on the creaking roof and the foggy windows and the shining porch. I believe in worn blankets and crackling fireplaces and chipped mugs of hot cocoa with someone you love under that Autumn storm. Oh, I believe in dancing in the rain, in singing in the rain, in jumping in puddles and drying each other off, and catching raindrops in your mouth (snowflakes on your tongue). I believe in snowmen and top hats and button noses, in snow angels and snow fights (and maybe snow bunnies). I believe in clichés because I believe in sunsets sinking behind dark profiles, and in sparkling cityscapes from distant cliffs in parked cars, and from the top of the Hollywood sign. I believe in love triangles, in love squares, and pentagons, and tetrahedrons too, and I believe in huddled friends and family, crying, thin, and white in cheerless hospital waiting rooms for the mother who has cancer, and the son who crashed his car, the grandmother with diabetes, and the uncle who had a stroke. I believe in friends lasting from high school, from middle school, from elementary school and pre-school. But I believe in friendships that go wrong and die and wither and change. Yes, I believe in cliché. I believe in life.