I met you last Friday night
to swim and watch movies.
I remember thinking you were cute,
and I liked how you smiled at me.
It made me feel admired.
Saturday night, I got drunk enough
to see galaxies in the vapors from your mouth.
I kissed you, and we were both a little hooked.
You held me when I cried in my stupor,
comforted me as I threw up in your bathroom,
and even covered me as I bathed in front of you,
because you couldn't leave me alone.
(And I didn't let you.)
Wednesday afternoon, I sat over you
staring into your beautiful browns,
wondering at the bright surface
while darker thoughts sat behind underneath.
I tried asking you questions,
and seeing if I could open you up to me.
I want to know every corner of your
body, mind, and soul.
I know it's too soon,
but it's what I want from you.
On Thursday evening, your birthday,
I wrote you a letter.
And I spent the entire evening with you.
You, the social butterfly with a dark past,
and me, the new girl with an old perspective.
You introduced me to everyone as your girlfriend,
and I could see the pride, and happiness.
I could feel it in me too.
I can't say it. Not yet.
But I think you and I can feel it
soon.
The road so far.