Jan 2014
I want you. I want your hand in mine. I want your smile to be my fault. I want to hear you say my name again without reservation, knowing that there's a string tied to the end of it that begins in my heart and I want. I want to look into those eyes again for as long as I want without someone getting suspicious. Without you getting suspicious. And I want to call you up in the middle of the night, bawling because I had a dream that we broke up and feel your arms around me even though you're not there. I want to call you Baby and know that I'm the only one. I want. I want. I want
You will never look at me the same way. You will never love me like I want you to love me. And I fear, I fear, I fear that these things are truer than the air I breathe but God, I have enough hope in me to slaughter and Japanese army, and we both know that hope kills and her only enemy is emptiness but God, who would want that?
So I hope. I hope, I hope, I hope you might feel even a microscopic but of what I do for you. I hope you love me still so I can stop praying to a God I know deep down I will never really believe in. I hope you say yes. I hope you never tell me no again. I hope. I hope I don't cry over you again, but for you. With you, even. But I hope you never need to cry again. I hope you stop seeing me as a child. I hope you learn that I am not innately independent, never was, never will be. I hope you take my weaknesses in stride and stop being repelled by them. I hope you let me learn to expect less from you, because I can do that if it means that I get to see
You are my best friend. I see you, holding my hand and telling me about your day and telling me that you miss me instead of just thinking it. I see you shutting me out and apologizing later and I see your apology from several weeks ago and know it was sincere. I see, I see, I see a future because I know you think the world of me. Always have. I know
You wear your heart on your sleeve. You make your emotions readily available to the public because you don't have time for games, and so I know. I know you think more highly of me than I could ever ask. I know you think I'm annoying, but you only tell me so because you like to comfort me and sometimes you have to injure me first because no one else will ever hurt me the way you can, and I know a lot of what I know is *******. I know you would correct me if you could read this and I know you just tolerate me but I believe. God, I believe in you and I believe
You do it because you still hold me tightly against your heart, but not in. Never in. I believe that in this state that is just too much for you and I get it. I get it. I'm sorry.
I get chills when you touch my hand, and I get shocks when you catch my eye and I get a fire in my belly when we hug and a fuzzy feeling when you play with my hair. I get butterflies in my tummy when you look down at me and I at you and we almost go in for a kiss and the whole room catches its breath and stops to stare because they can feel it too, and I feel it in my heart when someone says,
"You guys just looked like you were made for each other. Like. Physically."
When someone says, "What? What happened to my babies?"
When someone cries when you tell them we broke up because we were their picture perfect love.
When they listen at the edge of their seat to the story of our last couple of years and keep asking, "Okay, but when did you guys get back together?"
When you call me up because our old song played on the radio and it reminded you of me.
When you say...
Well, when you say anything at all.
That's when I feel it. I love you. I love you in a way incomprehensible to even me and I love you in a way that, to try to put it into words would be ten thousand times a disservice, and I love you the way I love that time of day when the sun touches her Earthen kingdom with warm, golden light and makes the world seem whole again. I love you the way I love the feeling of freedom in dreaming. I love you with the intensity with which a small, broken child loves to wish on the stars.
And I want, I want, I want, to know you love me too.
You will never look at me the same way. You will never love me like I want you to love me. And I fear, I fear, I fear that these things are truer than the air I breathe but God, I have enough hope in me to slaughter and Japanese army, and we both know that hope kills and her only enemy is emptiness but God, who would want that?
So I hope. I hope, I hope, I hope you might feel even a microscopic but of what I do for you. I hope you love me still so I can stop praying to a God I know deep down I will never really believe in. I hope you say yes. I hope you never tell me no again. I hope. I hope I don't cry over you again, but for you. With you, even. But I hope you never need to cry again. I hope you stop seeing me as a child. I hope you learn that I am not innately independent, never was, never will be. I hope you take my weaknesses in stride and stop being repelled by them. I hope you let me learn to expect less from you, because I can do that if it means that I get to see
You are my best friend. I see you, holding my hand and telling me about your day and telling me that you miss me instead of just thinking it. I see you shutting me out and apologizing later and I see your apology from several weeks ago and know it was sincere. I see, I see, I see a future because I know you think the world of me. Always have. I know
You wear your heart on your sleeve. You make your emotions readily available to the public because you don't have time for games, and so I know. I know you think more highly of me than I could ever ask. I know you think I'm annoying, but you only tell me so because you like to comfort me and sometimes you have to injure me first because no one else will ever hurt me the way you can, and I know a lot of what I know is *******. I know you would correct me if you could read this and I know you just tolerate me but I believe. God, I believe in you and I believe
You do it because you still hold me tightly against your heart, but not in. Never in. I believe that in this state that is just too much for you and I get it. I get it. I'm sorry.
I get chills when you touch my hand, and I get shocks when you catch my eye and I get a fire in my belly when we hug and a fuzzy feeling when you play with my hair. I get butterflies in my tummy when you look down at me and I at you and we almost go in for a kiss and the whole room catches its breath and stops to stare because they can feel it too, and I feel it in my heart when someone says,
"You guys just looked like you were made for each other. Like. Physically."
When someone says, "What? What happened to my babies?"
When someone cries when you tell them we broke up because we were their picture perfect love.
When they listen at the edge of their seat to the story of our last couple of years and keep asking, "Okay, but when did you guys get back together?"
When you call me up because our old song played on the radio and it reminded you of me.
When you say...
Well, when you say anything at all.
That's when I feel it. I love you. I love you in a way incomprehensible to even me and I love you in a way that, to try to put it into words would be ten thousand times a disservice, and I love you the way I love that time of day when the sun touches her Earthen kingdom with warm, golden light and makes the world seem whole again. I love you the way I love the feeling of freedom in dreaming. I love you with the intensity with which a small, broken child loves to wish on the stars.
And I want, I want, I want, to know you love me too.
