this is what happened:
i almost couldn't make it. letting go and turning to watch him step back into that little green honda civic. and close the door. smiling sadly and reaching up to grab that kiss i blew. it felt so...final. the clicking of my heart to autopilot, the slammig of his door, that strange twitch that pulled his mouth down and up so fast that i almost missed it. and the pavement was wet and dirty and i slipped a bit in my sandals and i couldn't watch. them drive away. him waving from the passenger seat. i looked ahead, towards city hall looming over me in a way that somehow felt indecent. and i forced a smile and asked for directions and found myself on the platform waiting. finding it hard to breathe because of the smell and the humidiity. i sat down. i stared at my hands. i bit my lip so that i wouldn't think. it didn't work. i said: i miss him already. i said: things. i didn't say: i miss you already. i didn't say: why? because i thought maybe you'd say why not.
you wouldn't. and that's just the thing. you would have laughed in that nervous way you have and followed it with that sighed musical "aww." you would have put your hand on my cheek and then slowly move it up so that you could twirl my hair. you would have pulled me in my blanket cocoon close so that you were breathing on my cheek and letting your eyelashes rest on my temple. i would have pulled you close so that we were entwined like ivy and let my head rest on your arm and my lips on your scratchy cheek. and we would have breathed in unison with our arms wrapped around each other and hands clasped, lyying on our sides whispering into each other's necks because there was no where else to go. there was so much to say.
and once again you said it with your hands. with your thumb running in little circles on my shoulder blade to let me know you were still awake even though the whispers stopped. and it was so peaceful. just quiet. safe. air conditioning humming and your thum running down my shoulder blade and mine at the nape of your neck. quiet. slow breathing. nestled into that heart the crook of our arms made with our noses touching and lashes fluttering. and your arms around me.
you would have because you did. without words.
and walking away, i almost couldn't. watch you drive away, me walk towards city hall. hold back the tears, clutch at the hollow space that opened behind my sternum. but i did. without words.
and i saw us, standing with our arms around each others' waists, pointing at some theoretical horizon, lined in silhouette, our backs facing those epic marble stairs and our faces tilted to the sun. us, walking to the same beat, laughing with lingering eyes. like we couldn't get enough of anything. of us, together, posed in front of a famous fountain spelling out love behind us, my arms reaching over your shoulders to end at cupped hands spelling out love on your chest. your hands pressed to mine and us, together, grinning at the lens.
it was only two days. not even. and, like everything you want to last forever, it didn't. it wasn't enough. i was greedy for more, drunk off of him simply being there by my side walking through the streets of philadelphia. and i wondered, will it ever be enough? can i ever make it be enough? i want to be able to say yes. like a lot.
but.
this is not me falling for him all over again.
it's me realizing (finally) that closeness with intimacy is not only possible but necessary. it's me realizing that i can move on and not lose him in the process. it's me realizing that growing up is beautiful and tragic and sad and good.
you wouldn't. and that's just the thing. you would have laughed in that nervous way you have and followed it with that sighed musical "aww." you would have put your hand on my cheek and then slowly move it up so that you could twirl my hair. you would have pulled me in my blanket cocoon close so that you were breathing on my cheek and letting your eyelashes rest on my temple. i would have pulled you close so that we were entwined like ivy and let my head rest on your arm and my lips on your scratchy cheek. and we would have breathed in unison with our arms wrapped around each other and hands clasped, lyying on our sides whispering into each other's necks because there was no where else to go. there was so much to say.
and once again you said it with your hands. with your thumb running in little circles on my shoulder blade to let me know you were still awake even though the whispers stopped. and it was so peaceful. just quiet. safe. air conditioning humming and your thum running down my shoulder blade and mine at the nape of your neck. quiet. slow breathing. nestled into that heart the crook of our arms made with our noses touching and lashes fluttering. and your arms around me.
you would have because you did. without words.
and walking away, i almost couldn't. watch you drive away, me walk towards city hall. hold back the tears, clutch at the hollow space that opened behind my sternum. but i did. without words.
and i saw us, standing with our arms around each others' waists, pointing at some theoretical horizon, lined in silhouette, our backs facing those epic marble stairs and our faces tilted to the sun. us, walking to the same beat, laughing with lingering eyes. like we couldn't get enough of anything. of us, together, posed in front of a famous fountain spelling out love behind us, my arms reaching over your shoulders to end at cupped hands spelling out love on your chest. your hands pressed to mine and us, together, grinning at the lens.
it was only two days. not even. and, like everything you want to last forever, it didn't. it wasn't enough. i was greedy for more, drunk off of him simply being there by my side walking through the streets of philadelphia. and i wondered, will it ever be enough? can i ever make it be enough? i want to be able to say yes. like a lot.
but.
this is not me falling for him all over again.
it's me realizing (finally) that closeness with intimacy is not only possible but necessary. it's me realizing that i can move on and not lose him in the process. it's me realizing that growing up is beautiful and tragic and sad and good.