If I had a week with her, I would spend every morning helping her make breakfast. We would have Egg’s Benedict’s and Blueberry muffins that would fill our home with the smell of, well, home. And we would read the newspapers, or our favorite magazines; and share our views on trending celebrities and random gossip, the weather, the frightening spike in gas prices, or the burgeoning costs of our future together. Then, we would share a quiet of moment of silence. She used to like reading poems from her favorite authors aloud, filling the house with her whimsical meter and enchanting reciting and as sudden as her voice would change, so would the room we stood in, transforming itself into a theater where anything except reality was allowed onto the stage. I desperately crave these days, and I would do almost anything to have but a mere second of it back.
I often wonder what is so wrong with me that I am unable to have anyone truly love me.
I ripped you up, but you didn’t go away;
because in my head, you somehow always stay.
Perhaps I will always live in the past. It’s not healthy. But at least you are there with me.
If I am broken, and you are broken, then together, will we be whole?
I don’t get lonely, I like to be all by myself. Just… sometimes I’d like to be all by myself with someone else. Y’know?
Around her, I would somehow lock down everything I felt for her with an armor of hilarious conversation. Making her laugh made me happy; happy enough to put off the difficult truth. What I felt for then, didn’t even compare to what I feel for her now.
And as you turned away to leave, I stood my ground and watched your plane become another distant star in the evening sky.
How I’ll Love You
I want to undress you with my words and placate you with paragraphs; Put your heart in parentheses and perspective in quotations. I’ll love you with exclamation points and place the beauty of your body in italics.
I uncontrollably look for your car in every parking lot…