sighs and butterflies
i'd like to think I know who i'm writing in this journal for, however most of the time, i'm not sure. sometimes i spare you the thing i think you wouldn't care to hear, and instead, i inform you of peak oil or show you pictures i'v taken, but isn't this supposed to be for me, too? maybe something for us. so here, from the alcove in my mind where longing is written in calligraphy on the walls, is what i have to say today:
there is something comforting about falling asleep with my cell phone in hand when i know he's going to call, even if it's long after i've already begun dreaming. in some strange way, it makes him feel closer than the 230-some miles that separate us in those dark and solitary moments. it’s like the second before he exhales words hangs suspended in time. rarely do i remember if it's the first few rings of vibrate only, or the following first few notes of etta's at last, that wake me, but every time, i have a hope, that in my sleepy haze i’ll mistake the scent of him on his shirt left behind, clutched close to my heart, for his body next mine, and his voice, but from his lips against my ear.
i haven't seen him since the early morning of the 13th, when i dropped him off in front the bustling train station, trying to catch a last glimpse of him before he disappeared inside and i had to turn my attention to traffic. i think it has been the longest we have gone without seeing each other and it has been much too long. tomorrow night marks not only the end of this longest yearning streak, but the beginning of our longest indulgence in each other’s presence. 5 nights, intoxicated, drunk on love. it’s going to be a great weekend.
there is something comforting about falling asleep with my cell phone in hand when i know he's going to call, even if it's long after i've already begun dreaming. in some strange way, it makes him feel closer than the 230-some miles that separate us in those dark and solitary moments. it’s like the second before he exhales words hangs suspended in time. rarely do i remember if it's the first few rings of vibrate only, or the following first few notes of etta's at last, that wake me, but every time, i have a hope, that in my sleepy haze i’ll mistake the scent of him on his shirt left behind, clutched close to my heart, for his body next mine, and his voice, but from his lips against my ear.
i haven't seen him since the early morning of the 13th, when i dropped him off in front the bustling train station, trying to catch a last glimpse of him before he disappeared inside and i had to turn my attention to traffic. i think it has been the longest we have gone without seeing each other and it has been much too long. tomorrow night marks not only the end of this longest yearning streak, but the beginning of our longest indulgence in each other’s presence. 5 nights, intoxicated, drunk on love. it’s going to be a great weekend.