Monday, July 22, 2013
Sleep deprived but satisfied and seemingly redeemed, he gazed at me and a smile grew. His eyelids struggled to stay open but he spoke to me with an eagerness and enthusiasm that I cherish like the world. That is why it was so easy to fall in love with him; that enthusiasm, his genuinity. I could listen to him speak all day, never getting a word in, I like his use of words far better--that's not to say that I don't believe I have anything significant to contribute. I suppose it's a new step: appreciating another person's time and openness to the extent of being content with just listening. Sure, I'd like to ask him silly, unrelated questions so to fill in the blanks: what is his favourite song? favourite colour? Favourite book? Favourite memory? I wanted to know more and more, and he's giving more than he shares with 95% of the people he's ever spoken to. I wanted him to tell me what his favourite beauty mark is out of all of the flecks on my skin, that I want him to remind me he thinks I'm beautiful now and then, say "I love you" not just when we part but whenever he feels it in his chest. But he has given my kisses on my forehead, my cheek, sometimes discretely at the back of my head so delicately I feel like I'm porcelain. I'm breakable so he never lets me fall too far, when he has...we've mended together. I long for a time when I will be able to see him more than once a week, that my family can see the source of half of my happiness and recognize the goodness in us being together. I want to lay with him and watch movies together at night, cuddled close together. I want to hear him laugh and be there for him when he's upset and deal with any shit that comes our way. I believe I can handle it, I won't be afraid of what people say and I'll give him the trust I can find...though that part of me is broken. I want him to take my hand and be proud to stand next to me and introduce me to his friends and family. I will be that girl. I want to be his and him to be mine.