Dear You,

Nov 12, 2011 10:47

You're my best friend. Even late into the night, when you stay behind everyone else just to sit on the couch with me in conversation broken with comfortable silence, we're still only friends. We lightly trace the outline of each others hands; my heart is pushing itself into you through my fingertips. As I look into your eyes, I know you're hesitant and, at times, uncomfortable. I'm not sure why. I want to make it easier, but I can't.

Your phone rings. You have to go. Our eyes meet again, in reluctant understanding. I walk you out, keeping a short distance behind you, and casually say, "Good night, sleep well," with a smile. I always say that to you. I really mean, "I want you to stay."

I do wish you would stay. We could fall asleep in each others arms and unhurriedly wake up to the sun. I would softly stroke your cheek and kiss between your eyes. Our hands would find each other, again, and our world would be quiet and pure.

You're my friend. I'll never ask more from you. But, assuming I'm reading your eyes correctly, I think there's something more to us. I hope you open your heart, past the hesitation, uncertainty, and possibly fear, in your own time. Unless you're happy where you are. Then you should stay there.

Until that day comes, if it even exists, good night, sleep well.
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