Shipwrecked.

You were a shock to my system,
But music to my heavy limbs.
And I wanted to envelop you
Like you had consumed me.
But the ship crashed into the shoreline with no warning.
And by the cold dawn,
You were gone.

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Late November.

The first time we hung out, I remember opening the door and being shocked to see you standing there. I mean, I knew you were coming over and everything, but it was still so surreal to see you there. You were like this entity that I didn’t think actually existed. You only belonged in story books and from afar. You weren’t suppose to be real to me.
You walked in and I felt like I was buzzing with nerves. I had no idea if we were hanging out as just friends, finally, or if you had any semblance of feelings that I did. It just felt like I was the night sky and you were a comet, blazing your way through.
We made popcorn with a maker you had impulsively bought. I told you it was a smart decision. You told me how you use to listen to music underneath the covers of your bed as a kid when it was well past your bedtime. I leaned against the counter, wanting to know how you existed from start to finish. You started laughing as the kernels came flying out, and I frantically tried to get the bowl in the right angle to catch them.
We sat on the couch, the popcorn bowl between us, watching your favorite movie, which I had shamefully never seen in its entirety. And that’s how this whole thing started.  A couple of weeks later, we would both find out I was working up the nerve to ask about hanging out, and you were working on the right draft to ask me on a date.
Not too far into the movie, you finally moved the bowl to the side, and took its place. You settled in against me, taking my hand in yours, and I remember just falling against your side. My chin rested on your shoulder and your head rest on mine, and I remember sighing, and telling you that I was so glad that you were the one who had worked up the nerve to do that.
But I remember my whole body sighing. And how easy and effortlessly it was to lean into you and fit into your body. How easy it was to laugh with you and be around you the moment you walked through the door. And when you kissed me… it was like every nerve in my body woke up, and how badly I just wanted more of you.
You ended up staying over and we slept in our underwear. All we ever did was kiss that night, and you didn’t even try to push it further. You asked if you could stay once it got past 1AM, and I was more than happy to keep you. I wasn’t ready to let you go.
Again, our bodies fit so easily together, and I forgot how long it had been since someone had held me like that. Since someone kept holding me like that through the night.
I woke several times that night, and each time, I was so glad that you were there. I would smile to myself before snuggling closer to you again; your skin soft and warm against mine. We were tangled up and it felt so comfortable. It felt right.
In the morning, I was nervous. I didn’t know how you were going to behave. I’d had a lot of bad experiences with mornings in the past. I’ve had a lot of bad experiences in general. But you woke up and held me tighter. You kissed me and I melted.  Then you asked if we could make a big breakfast, unless I wanted you to get out. And I smiled… I smiled and told you that I wanted you to stay.
You cooked bacon and eggs, and I made pancakes and coffee. And we realized we take our coffee the same way: black. And we spent the rest of the morning and a good chunk of the afternoon talking.
When you finally left, I laid down on the floor, overwhelmed by the last seventeen hours. I’ve had enough bad and hard experiences to know when something isn’t right. I’ve felt it and I know the signs. But with you… Everything was different. It was fun, easy, and effortless. And I was overwhelmed with the desire to spend more time with you, to know everything about you.
All this time… I think I was just waiting for you. And I knew. I knew that I was all in the moment I saw you on the doorstep. For good times, for awful times. For dance-like-a-spaz joy, and for hard and difficult trouble that left us both confused and sobbing. You were my person. And I would not falter or let you down. I wouldn’t give up on you or us. Because I felt so lucky, and confused, that someone as wonderful as you would want to be with an awkward mess like me.

Late Night Fears.

I wake up, and forget where I am for a moment.

I remember being tangled up in you, our voices slurring into sleep as we drifted away.  I take stock of my body, my legs straight out, and my arms curving on either side. I look down at my right hand, and I see your face pressing into the back of it.  I smile.

At some point during the night, we untangled ourselves, but your face is leaning in to touch my hand. And there’s something about that that just makes my chest do this sigh as you stir and straighten yourself.  You head tilts towards me, and I take this moment to look at you when you can’t notice.

You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful that every time you look at me, I’m wondering why in the hell you’re choosing to spend your time with me. And I don’t tell you this because it sounds so teenagery and silly. And you would make a face and say, “okay,” in the deadpan way you do whenever I say an opinion about you that you don’t think is true.

But I think don’t think that just because of your genetics. It was just a gut feeling I had about you when we were only acquaintances who occasionally popped into each other’s lives to make the other person laugh. It’s just you. In all the ways that I currently know and all the ways I’m learning, and all the ways I will continue to learn. All the ways that I want to. It was just something in my system that clicked and said, “Yes… This is going to be good.”

I’ve been hurt so many times before. I worked really hard to not be a negative consequence of it all, but I can’t deny the scars and reflex to preserve and protect myself. I make jokes that, knowing my history, this thing has every possibility of imploding on itself and falling apart. Because I haven’t known anything differently the past three years. I can’t deny that there aren’t damages I’m slowly working on fixing every day.  Same story, just different guy. I can tell you how it ends before it begins.

I can’t tell with you. You constantly surprise me and unnerve me. Everything about you and with you is different, and I am in murky waters.  And it’s utterly terrifying. But I’m here. I’m here and it’s exciting and scary. I bounce from happily taking it slow, to worrying and over thinking, which is just reflexive.

Somewhere in all these thoughts, I fall asleep. When I wake again, we’re facing each other, and you pull me in closer to your warm body. You nestle into my chest as I wrap my arms around you, running my fingers through your hair. You breathe deeply and wrap your other hand around you to hold my hand. I breathe you in and a calm happiness washes over me.

I didn’t realize how starved I was for this. How I had accepted that someone wouldn’t freely and willingly give me back the same affection and care that I gave him. But you do. Each time, you do. I know I’m safe to say what I want and behave how I wish with you. I don’t watch myself with you. I don’t limit or second guess. I don’t feel hidden or like I’m competing with someone else, or a ghost. At least, I hope I’m not.

You look up at me and kiss me. And when you pull back, my head’s still pushing forward. Every time you kiss me, I’m yours. It’s hard to take just one. You say “good morning,” before wrapping your arms tighter.

I have been hurt many times before this. I know very well how things have their ends, and everything comes with a time limit.  So I appreciate and cherish each moment. I remember these micro moments that go unnoticed by the rest of the world.  So, even if this thing does work out, and even if it does fall apart, I hope you know how cared for you are. I hope you can tell with each look and each touch from me, how adored you are.

You cup my face in your hands, and it weakens me. You stroke my hair and kiss my forehead, and I close my eyes. I just want to remember this.

And I’m an old romantic who weakens at night when she writes, and I will play the emotions up and overdramatize them in order to sell the feeling. I’m good at it. I’ve been writing this way for years.

So, whether I scare you away because I am too assertive or because I care too deeply or timing turns out to be a bitch yet again… Or maybe… Maybe it doesn’t end. Maybe there’s hope and possibility. I hate that I’m scared to feel that. I hate that when I say these things out loud, people are always so surprised.  But talk to me late at night. Talk to me when the sun sets, and the night stretches on into forever. I will be vulnerable and truthful with you.

You hold me close, settling your arm around my side. I rub my head against your chest as my breathing falls in rhythm with your heartbeat. I squeeze you tightly before lacing my fingers with your other hand.

All of that aside, I’m happy. You make me happy. I can’t tell you all that you’ve already done for me without even knowing it. And I will be forever thankful for it. Grateful, even, for how easy and fun and wonderful this has been so far. I’m trusting the process and letting each day happens as it may. It’s a lot easier to do that this time around. I’m a lot stronger and more comfortable with myself and what I want this time around. And I just cherish every bit of it.

All I know is that I know nothing. I am along for this ride of seeing where this goes. This wonderful, fun, easy, and enamored thing. Because I do not hesitate and I do not falter. I don’t blanche or cower or disappear. Sweets, I’m not of the faint of heart.  And I hope realize it. And I hope you don’t let it go.

Darlin’.

And you say,
“No, oh, no, oh, darlin’,
It’ll be okay.”
No, oh no, oh, darlin’.
It’ll be okay.
Oh, oh, uh-oh, darlin’.
What if we’re not okay?
“Then wrap a little tighter in my arms,”
You say.
And I will hold you close until day breaks.

And I am rubbing sleep from my eyes.
You’re right beside me.
And how did you ever choose to be here?
It’s beyond me.
But you look at me with warmth,
And all this music crashes inside.
Oh, you’re gentle and soothing as the steady ocean tide.

Oh, darling, I know you’ve been through a lot.
Oh darling, so have I.
But if you ever start to fall apart,
I will be here to protect your heart.
You had mine from the start.

Because you see, when you reached out for my hand,
And I know it’s hard to understand,
My body sighed with relief,
I don’t need another meet another man.

And oh, oh, oh oh, darlin’,
You don’t have to feel the same.
And oh, oh, oh oh, darlin’.
I know just my heart’s to blame.
And maybe someday you could wrap your head around this,
But I’m content to wait and see.

No, oh no, oh, darlin’.
It’ll be okay.
Oh, oh, uh-oh, darlin’.
What if we’re not okay?
“Then wrap a little tighter in my arms,”
You say.
And I will hold you close until day breaks.

In.

I pull out my bun,
my mess of hair falling past my shoulders,
and every strand smells like you.

I wake up in the middle of the night,
and for a brief moment,
I forget where I am.
Pulled from vivid dreams where things were moving,
but things didn’t feel quite right.

I glance over to my side,
and you’re there, fast asleep.
And I smile and settle in closer to you.
I can’t help myself;
I place my hand on your cheek,
Gently tracing the features of your face.

You stir for a moment, opening your eyes to see me.
I’m already smiling.
You smile back and nestle closer to me,
And I envelop you into my arms.

And it’s these little moments that I cherish the most.
You’re unpredictable to me.
I have no idea how this thing between us will play out.
And I think it’s good, because I’ve always struggled with patience.
It’s called “trusting the process” in writing.
And I think that’s what I’m doing with you:
Trusting the process.

So, in these moments,
where the world has stopped its rotation of hurtling around the sun,
when you’re asleep next to me and I’m listening to your heart beat,
what’s happened before and what’ll happen next doesn’t matter to me.
You’re here, and that’s all I need to know.

But I trace the features of your face,
I smile into your sleep-soaked eyes,
Because whatever is happening is completely out of my control.
And for once, I have no idea what’ll happen next.
I have no idea how this’ll play out, because you are an anomaly to me.
But I’m in.
I’m all in.

11:45 PM

You know that moment,
where you fall back onto your bed,
the buzz from the night’s drinks still in your system,
and it’s like rest comes to meet you.
Your body instantly settles as your muscles hit the mattress,
and the dull ringing in your ears from the over exposure
to loud and drunken sounds ringing in your ears still.
I breathe deeply,
and appreciate the oxygen filling my lungs a bit more.
I’m more aware if it then.
Because my mind isn’t overwhelmed with to-do lists,
with plans,
with anxieties and worries.
I am existing and breathing in this world.
As it spins and spins around me,
Underneath me,
Like I can feel when I’m especially drunk.
But tonight I’m just content and aware of my body.
In its random existence in the world.
Just a DNA structure that’s nature vs history.
What’s my factory setting and what I have been conditioned to be.
I’m impulsive, emotional, and brave by nature.
But I have been condition to hide my emotions.
Downplay what I feel and what I want because it most often
leads to rejection.
Because it most often highlights other people’s fears.
But I can’t explain the click inside myself where I understand now.
I straddle the line,
anxious and clumsy,
but I straddle the confirmation and frankness of my feelings,
and being patient.
Stepping back and letting the other person unravel.
All the while, they know where my two feet are firmly planted.
But it’s still just games.
When the reality is that I keep myself from saying all the worlds,
all the feelings residing in my chest that you make me feel.
Everything.
I would always rather feel too strongly than not enough,
especially if this is my one life to live.
I want to feel it all.
But it’s been a really long time
for me.
It’s been a hard,
heartbreaking, long time
for me.
And you are so good.
How I want to curl up beside you,
counting the mystified stars for how on earth I ended up here.
Because sometimes you look at another soul and you can’t help but think,
“Why me? Out of everyone, why me?”
It’s been a long time, darling.
It’s been a really long, hard,
heartbreaking time for me.
Please be good.

Running Into You.

Kiss me.
Kiss me slowly,
And then hold me tighter as the feeling grows. 
Hold my face in your strong hands
Feel the light coming out of my chest,
The way it does whenever you’re around. 
Hear my heart beating wildly at the sound of your voice,
As I gaze wordlessly at your face,
Love pouring from my eyes. 

Because I have so many words I can’t say.
But I’m dying to. 
And I hope to get to. 
Because my chest cavity is singing out your name.
And maybe you’ll return it. 
Maybe you’ll wrap me in your embrace,
And all the timing will work itself out.

God, I hope you do. 
Because if you are an ocean,
Then I am a river running into you.

Falling.

“What are you thinking?” You ask.

It catches me off gaurd. My hand hovers over your face- a pause in my fingers tracing your features, committing each curve to memory. I hesitate in answering because I can’t tell you the truth. Maybe not yet. Maybe not ever. 

But my first thought is how stunningly beautiful you are. You’re so beautiful that it hurts. Because I have no idea how you got here, or why you’ve even chosen to be in front of me. 

All I know is bad. All I know is unhealthy and people leaving. All I know is being the fool. But here you are. And I don’t feel like a fool. I feel safe, and this feels right. Is this what it feels like when the timing might be right? When two people might be in the same place for something to work? 

It hasn’t felt like this in such a long time. Which terrifies me because you came out of nowhere. You were just an idea I never took seriously. And now you’re lying underneath me, looking at me with those brown eyes, and I just want to be consumed by them. And I have no idea if you’ll choose me. I have no idea if you’ll decide on me, but God… It hasn’t been this good in such a long time. 

There are so many things I want to say to you. But I am overwhelmed in the things I feel, and I am transfixed by this person in front of me. 

You put your hand against my cheek, and I forget how to breathe for a moment. The way you look at me sometimes, it sends my insides into a frienzy. And I just want it to work. I just want whatever’s happening with us to work. Because looking at you, I know it could really hurt. You sparked my heart back up. And I just want it to work.

I clear my throat and tell you that I’m thinking about the beach. You laugh and kiss my forehead, tightening your arms around my torso so my head rests on yours.

I made my choice the the first time you held my hand. Whatever’s happening with us, I will see it through with all the courage and vulnerability I posses because this feels so different. This feels so hopeful. 

Gray Area.

I’m caught in this place. This in-between place of feeling everything but feeling unaffected. I’m also scared. I feel like I just found myself again and I’m not weighed down by anything, and I’m so terrified to jeopardize that by letting anyone in.  But I also want to share this with someone. Grab someone by the neck and kiss him until I feel  like I have satisfied that gnawing in the back of my chest.

But not anyone. It can’t be just anyone.

I can remember the last time I was sure that someone wanted me as much as I wanted him. And then it was over so quickly and I was completely heart-broken. And I’ve kept breaking my heart since. Making bad choices. Barreling through big and flashing red, neon signs. The pursuit of just something rather than something great. Something right. Making boys into men in my head, rather than facing the reality of who they really are, and who they sorely aren’t.

I don’t need someone to complete me. I already know how to make myself happy. And I know how to make those around me happy. And I’m constantly learning how to take care of myself. Because there’s no one around to stop me before I forget how to.

But we build and make these lives to share with other people. That’s why we exist all together. But life isn’t really lived unless it’s shared. When you can look over at someone and smile so broadly at the momentary acknowledgement that you are existing at this point in time. Your hearts beating and you’re feeling the Earth beneath your feet.

I can’t remember the last time I felt that comfort and security of looking over at someone and knowing that I loved him and he loved me back. And our future together seemed endless rather than its completion being right on the horizon. It’s only a matter of time. Because history has taught me so.

I don’t want to break again.

My parents’ always say it hits you like a thunderbolt. Right now, I just feel a lot of gray.

Throwing Things Away.

A few days after you had broken up with me, I put some of the trinkets you had given me during our time together into an old cigar box. I wanted to hold onto the fossil, the painted dinosaur, the ticket stubs and photos. I wasn’t wanting them gone, but I couldn’t look at them anymore.

Well, now I want them gone. I threw them into the trash, and I was sad because you aren’t the person who profusely proclaimed yourself to be. And who you turned out to be is actually quite upsetting, disappointing, and just not good.  You’re not a good guy. Maybe that’s who you want to be, but that’s not you right now. And I am still so angry with you. I am still seething, but I know some day I won’t be. And we’ll just be acquaintances and anything you say or do, or just your overall nothing at all, will not affect me in the least.

I really look forward to that day. I hate feeling such anger. And I’m so sick of still feeling hurt. I just want to feel nothing. I just want to be healed and happy. Not broken and searching. Not heartsick and trying to keep my head above water.

Just happy. And just me.

So I threw away all the things you had given me. Because I don’t want the reminders anymore.