February 26, 2012

Even if I disappear because I know you won’t let me come back, I won’t forget the way the birthmarks on your back feel under my fingertips. The way I can tell you like me to push your hair back and kiss your forehead. The way you like to hold my hand especially when you’re driving. The way you have to hop to keep up with me because you’re so small, but the way you also make me feel small in a good way. The way you pronounce your words in such a way that no one could ever mistake you for a brash New Yorker. The way you are so damn rough and not smooth at all. The way you never judge me so it reminds me to work on not judging you for anything (physically/mentally) or anyone. The way I’ve never wanted to talk to someone all the time the way I do with you and how you brought back me loving to talk on the phone for hours. The way you look in your uniform and the way it brings out your blue eyes. The way you look in your bathroom with your blonde hair down because it’s always wrapped up. The way you make me so happy that I’ve finally found someone I can have an intelligent conversation with. The way you are so completely different from anyone I’ve ever spent my time seeing. The way you love your job even when you hate it and the way you open me up to it. The way you open every door, always pick me up, and refuse to let me pay for anything. I can’t keep going without sounding like I’m in love and I’m not in love, but I appreciate you. I notice you and all the little things that make you. I want to keep you, but I’m a realist.