(no subject)
V
There are things I am discovering,
about myself, through you.
Through your eyes and the way they see me.
How do I tell you enough, that my heart goes
out to you. That they cross mountains and seas.
That I would run, swim, fly - a thousand leagues
just to see if what we had between us was real.
I bought my tickets and after I put in my credit
card number, I jumped nervously on the spot,
wondering if I'd made the right decision.
Impulsive. In my mind I expected the worst,
that I would go back and find that it was just
me and my imagination again, overblowing
signals and getting things crossed and jumbled
up and wrong. But still I packed my bags,
waited anxiously at the departure lounge
thinking of the worst and best case scenarios.
The first time I sat across from you,
I remember thinking, "man, this table is tiny".
You said I made you nervous as you tore
up your tissue and toyed with your coffee cup.
I asked you about yourself but you blushed
and brushed me off, you let me talk about myself.
You sat there and listened and I was contented
to just watch you smile, giggle and laugh at my
ridiculous jokes. Oh how you illuminated the room,
you glowed when you giggled, and shone when you laughed.
But you blinded me when you looked me in the eyes
and smiled. I could do little to shield myself from your florescence.
We talked and we talked, until I was afraid that
even my stories would run out. If we had to stifle a yawn
it wasn't because it was boring, we did not notice, but we'd
talked until morning. You jokingly said that we could watch
the sunrise. How romantic. I don't think we ever did,
but we came really close to it. Not that it would have changed anything.
The next day we met, the next time we met, I picked you up
and in my car we drove, not minding if we got lost,
not minding where we would end up. You helped me with
directions that I'd scribbled onto a post-it. We walked along
the beach, salt water lapping at our heels. We climbed up rocks
and sat high-up, perched above the sand and the waves
the whole time we sat shoulder to shoulder, but I did not dare
move closer or take your hand in mine. But clumsily we would
bump into one another, we would laugh it off and pretend that
it didn't happen, but I could feel the tension, I could feel the electricity,
all I wanted to do was to grab your hand and declare my stake in your life.
Back in the car, driving somewhere farther then we had already travelled
together. I turned down the music to hear you breathing as you
slept in the passenger seat next to me. I sang to myself, softly, trying to
keep myself awake but softly still to keep from waking you.
I hummed the tune, chimed in at parts that I knew, rapped whole verses
but did so so badly out of tune. I would take my eyes off the road for snatches
to catch a glimpse of you sleeping. I felt like I cradled something dear and fragile
within the grasp of my hands as I watched you sleep. The rise and fall
of your chest, the way you lightly shut your eyes, the way your hands fell off
your lap and onto the side. Split-second photographs ingrained into the back of my mind.
There are things I am discovering,
about myself, through you.
Through your eyes and the way they see me.
How do I tell you enough, that my heart goes
out to you. That they cross mountains and seas.
That I would run, swim, fly - a thousand leagues
just to see if what we had between us was real.
I bought my tickets and after I put in my credit
card number, I jumped nervously on the spot,
wondering if I'd made the right decision.
Impulsive. In my mind I expected the worst,
that I would go back and find that it was just
me and my imagination again, overblowing
signals and getting things crossed and jumbled
up and wrong. But still I packed my bags,
waited anxiously at the departure lounge
thinking of the worst and best case scenarios.
The first time I sat across from you,
I remember thinking, "man, this table is tiny".
You said I made you nervous as you tore
up your tissue and toyed with your coffee cup.
I asked you about yourself but you blushed
and brushed me off, you let me talk about myself.
You sat there and listened and I was contented
to just watch you smile, giggle and laugh at my
ridiculous jokes. Oh how you illuminated the room,
you glowed when you giggled, and shone when you laughed.
But you blinded me when you looked me in the eyes
and smiled. I could do little to shield myself from your florescence.
We talked and we talked, until I was afraid that
even my stories would run out. If we had to stifle a yawn
it wasn't because it was boring, we did not notice, but we'd
talked until morning. You jokingly said that we could watch
the sunrise. How romantic. I don't think we ever did,
but we came really close to it. Not that it would have changed anything.
The next day we met, the next time we met, I picked you up
and in my car we drove, not minding if we got lost,
not minding where we would end up. You helped me with
directions that I'd scribbled onto a post-it. We walked along
the beach, salt water lapping at our heels. We climbed up rocks
and sat high-up, perched above the sand and the waves
the whole time we sat shoulder to shoulder, but I did not dare
move closer or take your hand in mine. But clumsily we would
bump into one another, we would laugh it off and pretend that
it didn't happen, but I could feel the tension, I could feel the electricity,
all I wanted to do was to grab your hand and declare my stake in your life.
Back in the car, driving somewhere farther then we had already travelled
together. I turned down the music to hear you breathing as you
slept in the passenger seat next to me. I sang to myself, softly, trying to
keep myself awake but softly still to keep from waking you.
I hummed the tune, chimed in at parts that I knew, rapped whole verses
but did so so badly out of tune. I would take my eyes off the road for snatches
to catch a glimpse of you sleeping. I felt like I cradled something dear and fragile
within the grasp of my hands as I watched you sleep. The rise and fall
of your chest, the way you lightly shut your eyes, the way your hands fell off
your lap and onto the side. Split-second photographs ingrained into the back of my mind.