once again I find myself writing while you're asleep next to me, over the phone
I don't feel like I have anything to write really, but I haven't talked to anyone but myself lately, so it feels like performing to an audience when I write. An infinite section of rows full of ghosts willing to hear what I have to say. That's the only way it would ever work, since as you (might) know I have a phobia for some audience. Also it would be pretty difficult to listen to me with Mac Miller's Tiny Desk in the background.
Speaking of which, the very first song on it is Small Worlds, which you ruined it for me. When he sings "she hate it when I call in this late" and I remember the very first week of January last year when you called me late at night and asked if it wasn't a problem, since I hate when you call in late. I have never complained about you calling me. You were mistaking me for someone else and it wounded me for some reason, I still think about it. I guess I didn't expect you to have someone else you were calling during the night time.
It doesn't matter anymore, we spend every second of each day together now, do everything together and then go to sleep together. So I try my best to bury all those things that haunt me like infinite rows of ghosts in the past. I lose so many nice memories when I try to convince myself you've only loved me for six months now, but it's better this way since I can't deal with all the aching, and bringing it up doesn't solve nor help with anything.
Aside from those bad thoughts I have every now and then, I don't think much about it, you have so many beautiful thing to offer it would be a shame to only focus on the bad. Maybe they come around just to keep me grounded.
You've grown so much since we've been together, in all of the forms of "together" that we know an have come to know. In the beginning I had a very sweet and charming side of you, someone who knew what to say and what buttons to press. I missed him dearly for what seemed like forever, cause when he was gone I had nothing to hold onto, you didn't care for me nor liked me in that time being. I loved you too much to let you go, for a long long while, until I did.
I don't even remember how I ended up talking about our story, so I'll stop.
But it's so good now. You didn't want a relationship, and now I got you talking about marriage, about kids. Four of them. You enjoy spending as much time with me as you can, and you always speak lovingly to me. We plan all our dates and places to hang out, places where we'll take each other to eat. We buy each other presents when we go out by ourselves. You always find something new for us to watch or play.
It's everything all the time, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. You're such a sweet and caring person, as selfish as this can be I just hope you never realize I don't deserve you.
I haven't wrote a poem in a while, and a much as I love writing them, I don't miss it one bit. I write when I'm feeling down and bitter, which I haven't in a long while.
Six months from now, we'll probably be seeing each other, and I've never felt more exited about something. The idea of holding your adorable face in the palm of my hands and being able to kiss you on the nose, to actually look you in the eyes, and not just at the screen. To the sound waves of my voice saying "I love you" to be projected onto your skin. Trilling.
I'm glad you've grown to believe we are soulmates.
