We'll see how I feel tomorrow

I dreamed of you this morning, of you with another, and of barely keeping myself from decking the other with all my might. I miss you already, miss your touch and your kiss and the way your hair smells. I miss holding you close and petting you, running my fingertips over your face or side over and over. I miss lying wrapped in your arms, and the way we would roll together without any words spoken and you would slide inside of me, simple and easy and familiar and comfortable. I miss wishing you good morning, and I miss getting you breakfast, and I miss the way you cup my hip and the way I rest my hand in the small of your back as we walk. I miss your blue eyes and your smiles, your crazy mad scientist hair and your soft fingers. I don't miss the pieces of my heart you have. Maybe later I will, but for now you're welcome to them and more. I miss knowing if you were ok, knowing you had someone to talk to whom you trust. I miss your skin and being your anchor, cuddling on the couch and arguing politics and sending you chocolates because you were sad. You never did give me those roses. You never did make me that corned beef. I miss your rants about work and telling me I'm beautiful (so beautiful, how was it possible I ever didn't know?). I miss you with closed eyes, sleeping softly with no awareness I was watching and memorizing the way your lashes sweep your cheek.

I love you, you know. I love you, and I will miss you so much it steals my breath, worry for you in absence of speech, send hopes and well-wishes your way, because I love you and you are my best friend. I don't expect anything to change, really, but of course I would like it to.

I'm pretty sure you'd answer if I called, so I won't.

But I love you still.

'I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs'

I'm watching you sleep
the way you curl and stretch and breath as you shift
the curve of your fingers against your face
I want to kiss you everywhere
start with each fingertip and the soft skin at your temple
just hold you and lay my cheek against your hair
It's funny how that works
that wave of protective affection
The way it makes me want to take on the world for you
at your side.

Yesterday, on the bus ride up,
as the last of the light slanted sideways, dim and strange,
I thought about this, and us, and how
someday I will look back at all of it
at that moment there, sitting on the bus watching the world stream past,
and I will treasure it

I collect those moments, from time to time,
when it occurs to me that "This, this right here,
this is one I want to keep"
take a snapshot and sit back somewhere inside
and try to remember everything exactly as it happens
because that's the way I want to remember my world.

I have a few of those collected - sunrises and driving in the mountains and the first time I saw the ocean
But I swear it seems I bookmark more with you
Just tiny things that make me happy
That I want to keep forever.

Soon you'll wake, and I'll kiss good morning into your skin,
and life will go on
but for now I'll sit and watch you sleep
and store it against days I can't.

You and I, we're doin' alright, we're doin' ok

Now normally these days I hardly write a thing
I am grownup and sensible and sane
(okay, maybe not quite that far)
but tonight I sit alone and think of your kiss
and more than that, your smile and the way you touch me in a crowded room
to claim and reassure and protect
I love the way you touch me
the way you make me feel safe and cherished and cared for
the way you value me so clearly and don't mind making sure I know

I woke up with you again this morning
and, like every morning together, it was perfect and precious and quiet
sweet and slow and easy
I love the way you curl around me
and the way we tangle our legs together in the sheets
and the way we lie wrapped in one another's arms
and let the rest of the world fade away

It's indulgent, somehow, and decadent
Just to lie in bed with you all morning
with the light pouring through the sheer curtain
and nowhere else we need to be
To know neither of us would choose to be anywhere else

This week was hard, the hardest we've had, but still
When I think of you I smile
When I think of the time we spent together I remember the amazing parts
the way you kept bumping me with your hip when we cooked,
to remind me you were there
the way I woke up an hour early that first morning
just to kiss you soft and slow in the morning light
the way we danced like idiots and fell in the grass
and lay there while I laughed till I cried
and how we curled up together in the hammock in the dark and slowly swung
the way you wrap your hands around my hip
and the way you kiss away my tears
and the way you saved me a piece of fish, covered in pepper,
because you knew I'd be so sad to have missed it

I love the way we eat off each other's plates
and kiss soft and slow and deep, standing in the shower
and how much you appreciate things I don't think are even noteworthy
and treat me like I'm amazing

I never write any more
And I hardly sit and read
but tonight I'm reading writing prompts and viewing artsy photos
And every one makes me want to cry or smile or burst
from all the emotion brimming up
And I think, this is what you do to me.

How can I ever thank you?

Whenever, wherever (but never here or now)

Sometimes it's just not enough to tell myself that
it'll all work out, it'll all be fine
life is quite the ride, hold on, wait and see
Sometimes, I want to see where this is going
Have some idea of where I want it to go
make some form of an eventual plan
pretend I'm on a path

Sometimes, it's not sufficient to have faith
sometimes I want direction
want a compass
want an idea of what star to follow
(want just to see a star to follow)
Sometimes, I can't be sure it will all work out.

Sometimes I can't even dream, even wish, even look to the skies and breathe in
possibility
Sometimes I am so lost in the here-and-now I can't see the forest

Sometimes, life is longer than I know what to do with
Sometimes shorter
Almost always too uncertain

Sometimes I think even the beginning of a glimmer
might be enough, a spark, an idea to spring from
Sometimes, my own ambition just isn't direction enough.

Sometimes it is, of course.

But sometimes it's not.

The more things change...

Everything is different now.

How wonderful, that everything has changed.

Job location lifestyle plans goals dreams beloveds
nothing is the same, and everything has changed

You want me to write again
and I respect that
possibly solely because I want me to write again, too
but that's ok. we can have similar wishes and goals
(it wouldn't be the first time)

you make me smile, you make me laugh
(to quote a song, I'm not used to liking that)
when I'm with you I spend less time wanting to cry
and more time wanting to live
you make me see possibilities instead of blank space
being with you paints pictures in the space behind my eyes where before there was only darkness and mist
you hold me when I fall apart and kiss my eyes when I cry

thank you.

(please consider this my love letter to you)
(I hope you feel the same)

you can never go home again

It's strange, the way home fluxes and moves, careless and undulating
the way one's viewing of one's own past
our history, etched inedibly upon our skin and behind our eyes
under our fingernails and within every pore
the way it changes and adjusts
slowly, minutely
creepingly
until one day you look upon it and find your memories have all changed
your own hard-fought understanding have given way, finally, at last, to something new
be it a peace, some closure, a small measure of affection
or things less benign
nothing ever stays the same

least of all the past.

all fall down

Trying to focus on my own breathing
In and out, in and out
trying to keep it steady and calm and to somehow feel less overwhelmed
it's like late at night
after you've fallen asleep
the way I sit on the phone still
and listen to you breathe
in and out, in and out
let the fact of your continued existance be the gentle background noise to whatever else I'm doing

It's a good reminder.