I am looking at the sky and I can see the vaguest outline of the trees against the night and soon I’ll see the glow of a golden moon but all I know is that I should be looking at it with you. I want to take you to Europe. I want to stop by the Seine and see that moon reflected in the water and I want to feel my hand in yours as I look at you and nothing else. I want to take you to that lock bridge, you know, the one weighed down with all that love. I want to look at a padlock and envy the way it is fastened so tightly around the metal, if only I could be so irrevocably wrapped around you. And while others look up at the Eiffel Tower I want to look at the rust peeling off the railings so effortlessly, and I’ll think of how you did the same for me, how you were the first and last to see the core of who I am and how I wasn’t even afraid. It hurts so bad to want you, these days. I ache for your flesh against mine and your pulse beating in time with my own and how I can never tell whose is whose, and how I know it’s supposed to be that way. Your fingertips, grazing my cheek; I never thought it was possible to miss something so much. I miss the forests in your eyes and getting lost amongst the firs beneath the starriness of the night. It feels as though this ache is eating me alive. I’ve never wanted dawn to come so bad. I want to feel my heart race as every mile brings me closer to you. I want you to look at me in that way you always do, that way that leaves me breathless because in a one second’s glance you look at me with a love that couldn’t even be explained in ten thousand little black journals. I miss looking at you and feeling my mind go blank. Walking down cobblestone streets with you seems much too far away. But I’ll wait for it, just like I have waited for tomorrow, like I have waited to take your face into my hands and kiss you with this feeling that has made every day without you seem like nothing at all. Like I’ve waited for my limbs to become tangled with yours. Is there a better feeling in the world? There never was. I want you. I want you. The wanting you leaves me expressionless staring at a now pitch-black sky. I can’t even see those trees anymore. I can’t even begin to describe to you this ache that is splitting my bones. Sometimes I can’t think of anything to say. How do you begin to tell someone that you never thought it was possible to need something so much? But I do, I do. I need your arms. I need to feel your lips tugging at my own. Like we can’t get close enough. We never can. Sometimes I swear that wanting you is all I am.