What I think about when I think about You

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I am counting the seconds…

While laying here on your narrow bed.

It feels like a forever has passed since I woke up and yet you are still in the dream world probably chasing the ghosts of the past or getting spooked by the unclear and formless illusions of the future.

The time and space are dancing with the regular specks of dust, creating thick heaviness in the room that is grounding my chest and locking me down to your bed. Yeah, and because of that I can’t get up and leave. Probably because of that. Most certainly. Not.

I’m daydreaming now.

You are facing the wall.

Nothing is moving, except our air-grasping diaphragms.

Then I raise my pointing finger up and start drawing fruits of imagination on your dirty white ceiling. Little creatures and whatnot.

I’m carving them in really carefully.

You’ll never know but they’ll stay here forever. Watching after you, for me.

My hand cannot fight the chaotic density of the previously mentioned dance and just gives up.

At the exact moment of my hand falling onto the bed sheet, you start waking up.

Yes, forever later, you open your eyes and now the room is slowly getting filled with your presence. Pushing the dust, space and time out through the tiny crack in the window, which is just in front of my bare feet.

I stare into your eyes.

You stare into mine.

I close my eyes while you touch my hair.

Let me soak into you…

Usually, I don’t talk much.

But here I found myself, saying the things you want to hear.

And it’s not like they’re not the things I want to say. It’s just that I feel very vulnerable while taking off these heavy layers of my heart. I’m usually used to being the over-dressed one, you see. And I am used to running away instead of getting naked, you see.

 

You see? You’re so close.

And each day you get one step closer. To what? To a tiny shield.

Isn’t there a tiny shield between our hearts? Protecting us from the instability and the overbearingness of these raw emotions.

We are tiptoeing a lot around each other. But only because we cherish this connection. This fragile dialogue between our hearts and souls is indefinably charming.

 

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Alarm disrupts us. I will be hesitating but I’ll get out of the bed eventually. And I’ll be smiling at the creatures above your head and at you. Before I’ll close the doors, I’ll have peaked at you for the last time. You will lay there facing the wall again.

 

If only you knew.

 

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