We

The clock on the wall tells me that it’s almost midnight. You are still quietly strumming your guitar strings with the first few fingers of your right hand, the first couple of notes of my favorite song.

I tell you it’s my favorite song. You smile at me and keep playing. I am hypnotized by your eyes and the expression on your face and the strength with which you can concentrate even as I lay waiting for you.

You are beautiful in all the ways I cannot begin to describe to you. And I want so many things from you.

I want to look at your lovely face and know in that instant that I am perfectly safe because you are with me.

I want to be the person that gets to watch you while you’re deep in concentration and you start making those strange almost snorting noises and smiling and just being.

I want to know that nobody else is seeing all your quirks and charms quite like I am.

I want to see you happy and passionate and excited about things. I want to be able to put that same silly smile on your face.

I want your body to always be close enough to mine that I can feel the way your heart is beating and see every single freckle on your arms and know by just a hint of motion exactly what you need.

I want to be the person you run to when life is hard or good or scary or wonderful because everything you feel – I want to feel it too.

I want every part of you from your hair that’s too thick to your toes that are too long and I want every single part of you to want me just as badly.

I want to be your cheerleader, your backbone, your best friend, your missing piece. I want you to feel like I’m bringing out in you all the best things you can possibly be.

I want to listen to you tell dumb jokes and play instruments poorly and I want to tell you that I think your flaws are just as beautiful as the rest of you.

I want to somehow tell you how much it means to me that you see light in me even when I can’t. I want you to know that I’m a better person when you’re around to tell me all the ways I do things right. I want you to know how much you have shown me about the person I can be. I want you to know that person, scars and all.

I want to love you like a juicy summer peach or a big belly laugh or a perfect light snowfall. I want to love you like sleeping in on a Sunday and waking up to light streaming in through the curtains, when everything is warm and perfect and beautiful.

The clock tells me it’s midnight, and you don’t want me to stay.

You are still beautiful. But you’ve slipped through my fingers. It’s too late for us now.

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16 comments

  1. Hmm… Dating an imaginary person isn’t exactly good use of your time. Here’s a novel written by someone your age with almost the same background (http://shannonathompson.com/novels/a-timely-death-trilogy/minutes-before-sunset/). The writing may not be as good as you’d expect, but somehow her plot works well to generate sales. I guess she can really create characters that resonate with readers. You’ve got a PDF preview of the first page. Just see for yourself. She writes poetry, too. Writing isn’t key for her. She sees people. And that’s important.

  2. I wonder who this person is..and you know, it’s never too late. Life is funny in a way because someday some how…when we look back with an open heart…it seems like things happens just the right way…
    Hmm….i hope i made sense!

    1. It is. Sometimes I feel bad for writing about him so much (what if he sees it?) but then I think, well, that’s what you get for breaking a writer’s heart 😛

  3. Yes I am beginning to understand “Little growing Pains” I have lived this as well…. but they keep coming back around in my life… 30 + years now, takes a lot to put it down on paper and showing it in a positive way.

    Thank you
    Mark

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