Press play.
18 weeks ago. We met for coffee today. I've never met anyone like you, you showered me with half-smirks and we drove through the night looking for a place for me to rest my head in the future.
You stayed the night. I remember the awkward moment where we both didn't want to leave each other yet. I asked you nonchalantly if you wanted to get breakfast because I wasn't bored with you. I had my air of self defense up back then, I was a calloused shell and you were the diver looking for pearls who plucked me up from the sea.
You told me you couldn't believe you were holding hands with the most beautiful girl in the room.
Every word that slipped through your lips was poetry. We ignited the flames in our hearts together and wrote and sent voice notes of spoken word pieces about each other or maybe about our exes or the grand scheme pictures that we wanted to dissect in to something beautiful.
Saying goodbye at the airport I felt as if our movie was ending. I mentioned it in passing, and you said there's always sequels.
Two weeks later I held your heart near mine again. Thank god for small favors and cheap flights and clustered days off of work. You had started to crack my exterior, with your frank honesty, quick witted haikus and the way your skin felt against mine at night. I never told you this but I did watch you sleep, sometimes, just to know that I wasn't dreaming, that you were really there in my bed and I had not made you up in my head (like Sylvia Plath once said...)
It took the waters of Florida to finally wash the remainder of the sand off of me. Callous was something I no longer had to be. The way you entertained my little brother, helped my grandparents, calmed me down during bits of madness. I told you drunkenly that I was falling in love with you. Every day I'm falling in love with you. Whether it's a new freckle that I notice or a new idiom you come up with I am dazzled, awestruck by you.
Pause.
Fast forward through the scary parts. (Cover your eyes)
The other night I wished upon every bit of magick every single star in the sky that somehow I could make this right and we could go back to being poets, in love, madly
There are still moments where you spontaneously tell me that you love me and my heart skips a beat out of hope that maybe we have a chance of continuing our movie
You've taught me so many things
Don't stop teaching me

Like when I once said you taste like my toothpaste,
Don't stop tasting me.