XOXO: Is Instant Replay good for the league?

What gives someone the ability to sit pale-faced, hunched over a computer during twilight hours - while writing the half-ass notes taken down mentally as these thoughts fly by two-thousand miles an hour? I'm in the MVP in whatever league that gets started there. I remember, on average, only one sentence per every five that run through this little brain of mine. Unless I happen to say them aloud to let my audio-memory do some work, most of the so-called genious I have goes right to the gutter. These are my own meandering thoughts, and they mean nothing.

It's cool out tonight. The chilled air streams softly by my neck as only the driver's side window is down. The car is off. Emotions are on, and I stare into these endlessly clear eyes even though it's dark. I parked backwards on the street for a reason. This time around the light from her porch was centered on her, and I was able to see, for the very first time, the nervousness of a missed signal, a botched first kiss. We then slide seamlessly into a joke about nose hairs to cover up our mistake. We both know. We both mentally accept that the next late rendezvous may prove a better time to break open.

It's always next time; that perfect moment when time stands still and a million sunsets are replayed over on the second when everything is perfectly golden. A moment so perfect that a re-do can never be an accepted substitute.

Playing connect the dots with the stars above, and you see a falling star. You hesitate just enough to know that approximately four million other people beat you to the punch on your wish. So then you wish to receive something you're afraid to have - just knowing you won't get it. At that exact time you go back to wishing that those same four million people were busy with other things - love, hate, late work, or even a blink of an eye. You get your wish. And suddenly your lips graze hers. Immediately your eyes jet open in surprise, and you realize what is happening. The eyes slowly close and you're back into your comfort zone. And love is the only thing connecting kiss to kiss - there's no air, time, space...

Suddenly your eyes open, not from a kiss - but you've dozed off with her laying on your shoulder, hair sprawled out casdcading in a perfect pattern. You give her the last hug of the night, and the nod that let's her know you'll be back soon enough.

Dream or not, it was good enough to last ages...

But then again - there's always next time...