#allaboutaboy

Distance doesn't mean much to me. It's just a number: a number of miles between your arms and mine; a number of days until I see you again; a number of people who get to look at your smile each day in person- a number that does not include me. Separation doesn't mean much to me. It's just a trial, a test, and I've always been clever: I can pass a test. I can add up all those silly numbers and subtract a little bit each day; I can write essays into letters that take hours to read and reread; I can imagine all those others whose days are brightened by your the grin your face habitually wears and I can craft them into stories. I can do all that and before we know it we'll be together again.

There is selfishness in love as well as sacrifice. And maybe that's why love is the driving force in this crazy world. It's a paradox, as are all the greatest things. The craving for love is a desire to give entirely of yourself without coercion that goes hand in hand with our deepest wish to inspire such sacrifice in another.

I want to see you at your worst . I want to see you so heart-brokenly sad and disappointed  that your tears just don't come, your eyes glassed over and hollow; then I will hold you, care for you and give you all the hope I have to give. I want to see you jealous and spiteful, catty and just plain mean (because let's face it, everyone is sometimes.) Then I'll be able to bite back and ease your jealousy with my own fierceness and we'll laugh about all of it later. I want to see you scared, worried and distressed because life is stressful and overwhelming; I want to see the slate of your eyes washed over by the salty tears that well up there and wash over your cheeks like the ocean waves. In those moments I will have no words to say, only my lips to kiss away the tears and my embrace to shelter your body. I want to see you angry, really truly angry, with a dark fire ignited in your blue eyes and a passion bursting out in your voice, harsh with yelling so loud that my own lungs cannot keep up for weakness. I want to see you mad at the world, at anyone... at me. I want to see you flawed and human and covered with the dustiness of humanity. Because I know that if I see you at your worst then I have you at your best, and if I can handle your passion I can handle your love.