happy birthday
He said he used to worry that if something happened, it'd be much easier for him to walk away than me.
I told him that I worried it was still like that.
He got up to turn the car light off.
I shut my eyes.
Everything was crisp, clear, cold. Everything was going to be OK.
He came back, and pulled me down beside him to look at the stars.
"I don't feel like it as much, lately..."
"But you still do?" He sounded worried.
"I don't think it matters. I don't think we could know, one way or the other."
He was quiet.
It's 2.49AM and I'm hunched over the computer desk eating still-half-shrink-wrapped cold alfredo.
I don't think what made me cry was that he doesn't love me as me as much, because I think he does, even if he doesn't know.
It was that he just can't seem to say a thing about us without making me ache.
Or at least, can't say those things without constrictions, dietary suggestions, or improvisational stand-up.
It's that he when he tells me he loves me, he stops midsentence to discribe cloud formations.
And I know that all that's probably why I love him more, to begin with...
but he never seems to understand how much I'd love a little white lie.
What I should have said was;
"Let's do this like everybody else.
Tell me I'm the greatest, and I won't ask if you mean it."
But he'd never have done it.
And I'm content to wait .
I told him that I worried it was still like that.
He got up to turn the car light off.
I shut my eyes.
Everything was crisp, clear, cold. Everything was going to be OK.
He came back, and pulled me down beside him to look at the stars.
"I don't feel like it as much, lately..."
"But you still do?" He sounded worried.
"I don't think it matters. I don't think we could know, one way or the other."
He was quiet.
It's 2.49AM and I'm hunched over the computer desk eating still-half-shrink-wrapped cold alfredo.
I don't think what made me cry was that he doesn't love me as me as much, because I think he does, even if he doesn't know.
It was that he just can't seem to say a thing about us without making me ache.
Or at least, can't say those things without constrictions, dietary suggestions, or improvisational stand-up.
It's that he when he tells me he loves me, he stops midsentence to discribe cloud formations.
And I know that all that's probably why I love him more, to begin with...
but he never seems to understand how much I'd love a little white lie.
What I should have said was;
"Let's do this like everybody else.
Tell me I'm the greatest, and I won't ask if you mean it."
But he'd never have done it.
And I'm content to wait .