Sometimes I’m anxious for you to leave so I can think about all the things we should be doing together. Like that the contours of your body would fit my curves perfectly.
Like that your ribs are smooth and defined.
Like our tongues moving together seamlessly.
I can imagine we’d laugh at the same things and be enamored with the same tv shows.
I imagine you and I lying in a bed of daisies listening to each other breathe.
Every moment I spend with you in reality only fuels my daydreams.
I study the way your lips move when you smile so when you smile at me as we cruise on the highway towards Sandiego—the smile is yours. I remember the sensation of your arm around my body as I run into you, so when your arms are wrapped around me as we lie under the stars of a foreign country—the embrace is yours. The sound of your voice is always running through my mind, so when you tell me I’m beautiful—the voice is yours.
You.
are truly something to behold, though I’m not sure of who you are.
I’m not sure I want to know.
I’m afraid that you won’t like vegetables.
I’m afraid that you don’t like to dance.
I’m afraid you hate books or are stupid or mean.
I’m afraid you’re more uncertain of yourself than the you I’ve been dreaming about.
I’m afraid you don’t like road trips and dream of living in a fancy house.
I’m afraid that you might be nothing like me.
I’m afraid of the possibility that we just aren’t meant to be…