Some point between the dread of today and the hope of tomorrow there is you. You stand here next to me but our skins do not touch. All there is, is the air pocket of wanting and secret, hopeless desire. Despite the infinitesimal space of where the tips of your fingertips begin and where mine end, we wish that they did, in fact, come into contact. It will be like a collision course of electricity, the way the universe somehow formed into being. Or at least, we hoped it would be that way.
The way you hold that glass of water stills the very core of my being. Like a hypnosis of sorts. As your voice speaks, all I hear is the thunder of your deep and steady roar. It is strong, confident yet almost childlike – to a point it leaves me irrationally irritated because I need a man like that.
“You always want what you can’t have.”
But what’s the hurry, darling?
We have until forever to fall in love anyway.