#netish

Yeah I'm still doing more of these. All the main party members are done!

I remember the time we walked in my garden, and i rubbed it in my palm, you held it  and you promised not to let go; since then, everything that calms me has been purple. 

But if I could name the feeling, I’d call it the road home looks a lot longer than it is. I’d call it plane tickets to Paris and loose change in car cup holders, something caught in my throat. I’d call it screaming skin and my heart taming its wilderness. 

If you asked today, I’d call it memories of my week with you, I’d call it there’s no answer, only sore lungs, sucking in my heart. 

If you asked yesterday, I wouldn’t know, I’d ask to smell a lavender, if you ask me tomorrow, I might answer the same. 

---- 

But you came at me with those green eyes and when you smiled I believed – Hey, this might turn out alright.

Suddenly distance was the inches between our sleeping bodies. Arm’s length was inconceivable, because how could we ever be that far apart when we tangled ourselves up so tightly? And oh, did you touch me. I was ignited by your roving lips, only to be quenched by the shivers you sent down my spine, caressing me softly in the breaking dawn.

I hadn’t felt that way in what seemed like years, that you brought me out from under a dark cloud, had watered me and cared for me and allowed me to feel the sun again. But I would just smirk and say, “I guess I like sex.”

So the time came.

I read that message as I took off on that plane. You’ll do great, I’ll see you soon. But six months isn’t soon when I count the hours I’m not with you.

And I’m in this place and it’s amazing, more than I could ever ask for and completely, overwhelmingly beautiful. But you’re not here to share it with me.

My friends tell me I’ll forget about it, that I should be happy. And I am; but I’m without. What do they know anyway?

I want to laugh in your arms as you try to tickle me, to play along with your stupid jokes in hopes that you’ll flash me that grin I love. To tell you that you are enough. Stop pretending like you’re a curse. You are a blessing.

I’m not saying I’m in love, but I’m not discounting it as lust. I’m in a poorly timed like. From 4172 miles away.

And so you’re giving me what I wanted. Isn’t that the greatest part of it all? Distance became worlds away instead of across town, arm’s length became the dreams of you pulling me back down into bed, the room flooded with the morning light as if you needed me to just lay with you for a little while longer.