This maybe, might be, kind of a big deal…

And there’s you sitting there across from me holding both my hands in yours telling me about the future.  About OUR future.  And you’re so calm… so sure… and this, it’s what I’ve wanted, for so long now that it’s hard to think about properlie.  It’s like wanting to be… like wanting to be your girlfriend I geuss… no.  I didn’t want to be your girlfriend.  I just wanted you to love me… maybe just is the wrong word.  It’s like wanting to be loved that much and in that way by that person… for years… and being told over and over and over and over and over that it’s just not going to happen. 

And one day, you start to believe it.  And you try to stop hoping, and wishing and wanting, and finallie you do.  One day all the hope you ever had for that bright shining thing is gone, and someone calls you up and offers it to you.  And you can’t believe it.  You want to, you reallie do, but there’s not a place inside you that can hope like that anymore.  There’s no more flawless faith that this is the real thing.  Things like this don’t happen to people like you.  And you’re there next to me in the car, or on the couch or in bed or out to eat just giving it away.  Like that guy who goes around giving out those million dollar checks, except better than that, because it’s you. 

And here you are holding my hands in yours and telling me about a year from now, and how things will be then, and you believe it.  There’s no hope there, there’s no awe, there’s just truth.  For you this isn’t wierd.  For you this isn’t the biggest most awesomest prize ever.  You don’t wake up and remember and feel just so luckie to be alive in a world where something like this could happen. 

For you this is inevitable, but for me this is my Hail Mary, my million to one chance… and to me this is wierd and it is maybe just a little bit of a big deal.  And I’m trying to accept that this is just a normal thing that happens between normal people, but the thing is even though I geuss maybe I thought it was a slight exageration, a tinie bit of hyperbole… when I said that if I could spend just ten minutes a day with you then life would be perfect.  It not only was one hundred percent the truth, I’d prollie settle for less than ten minutes.

And I know that I’m big on explanations and reasons, but sometimes when I look at you all those words that I could say they fail me.  How can you love someone that much for that long and want them with every part of you, and still look at them and not feel just a tinie bit of awe? 

And I do love you.  I love you more than anything… I love you more than you’d love to own a working Sonic Screwdriver.  I love you more than sleeping on my Cloud.  I love you more than penis, more than sex with you, more than my life. 

 

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About SleepieBear

Opinions are my own. Facts are poorly checked. (Unless cited.) Use your brains.
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