he's a:
seasoned chocolate milk drinker
man-child
annoyance
testy *******
best friend.

he touches
my arm because he knows I'll let him
and we both need it.
some sort of physical acknowledgement of
our own existence.

two small children figuring out their future,
longing for a relationship to call our own.
we aren't the perfect soul mates for each other,
yet he is my other half and I his.

we aren't sure how we feel about each other.
there is a mutual timidity, fear, reluctance,
down right refusal to acknowledge the tension.

he pulls in closer, I move away.
I move in closer, he pulls in closer.
we realize. we both move away.

we make eyes from across the room.

there is a comfort in knowing that
he will always care.

that's the hope,
the desire.