I wrote this as I was falling in love almost exactly one year ago. I’ve never shared it before but here’s to being vulnerable… Keep in mind, it was never really finished or polished but going back will change it. This is where I was at the time. Here it is:
There we layed… The boy who I had met months ago and always had a strange, secret curiosity about and I tangled on a couch I now think is infested with fleas. We talked about what it meant to be “dating” how it works for us to be seeing other people and each other at the same time. I lied, saying it didn’t bother me when he told me about the other girls. Really, just about the one. The one he’s wanted since high school. The one who would get in the way. The one he needed to move beyond before diving into anything. But he could tell, I watched him watch my eyes turn from windows of happiness, to sad holsters for the tears I wouldn’t let spill. After only a week he knew what it meant, he could see my heart close off and my walls build themselves back up – brick by brick.
I explained I had to leave. It was time for me to go. An arbitrary time I explained, saying I wanted to sleep in my bed. Knowing if I stayed in his arms for even a second more I would never be able to turn back. Knowing the dangerous line I was toeing. Knowing this wasn’t supposed to happen but it was moving full steam ahead and even with an emergency break there was no stopping it. I needed to get out of there and it needed to happen immediately. I went to the door, bag in hands, shoes in the other because to take the time to tie my laces was not an option. I needed out before I fell any further. He hugged me and gave me a kiss, and I realized how strange it was that no touch had ever felt as comfortable as his. He asked why I was leaving, why I made an arbitrary rule. “If you want me to stay, tell me.” I’d never talked to a casual date that way, someone who could easily discard me then and there. “I told you that you can stay the night.” “Well, yes, I know I can but do you want me to?” “I do. You’re such a girl.” And with that, in I went, shoes and purse strewn on the floor they seem to be calling home these days. We melted into each others bodies, our short, stout limbs entwined like they’d never known another partner. Days have felt like months. The comfort is inexplicable.
“Your eyes are familiar,” he said the first time we met, sleeping in a bed belonging to neither of us. In three days we’ve laughed and serenaded and talked and talked and talked. What does it mean? I think I like you. A lot. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. “But why me?” Of course, this is the place where you should explain. “Well you’ve swept me off my feet with your perfect balance of pervert and poet. A man who sings to me and picks on me and also grabs my ass can have my heart in an instant. When you tell me about your life I can’t help but imagine all the pain you’ve suffered sitting inside your stomach, weighing you down every day but feeling a lightness when we’re together.” Instead I find myself making silly faces, squeezing my eyes shut because maybe I will disappear and he wont be able to see how vulnerable I’ve become. Making jokes about how we’re so cheesy and gross so I don’t have to truly explain myself.