The dramatics of falling in love -for the first time, again-. Feeling safe in the words of a lover that is not yours just yet. To start believing, again, maybe not in God, but in things greater and smaller all the same. Trying to make sense of something so vast and warm is an impossible task yet you try to tackle it anyway.
Don’t you feel dizzy? Don’t you feel full just from their words alone? Tell me, where have you been. Why didn’t I see you sooner- why did i have to wait? It’s all about patience and patience and patience and it seems endless -but it’s not a chore- not when it comes to you. Everything and everyone I’ve met has led me to you, to write for you and cry for you. Nonsensical conversations and hints of love, with the excuse of feeling high on endorphins.
You and I -we are at peace-. Not at the same time, but you’ve taught me to wait. Everything has always been about waiting for me but for you i’ll pretend the time passing does not bother me, pretend until it doesn’t. You find a way to come around, a way that does not startle me but holds me gently. You offer support while I learn the virtue of patience, of waiting again. The heart is heavy with hoping and admiration: you make living seem so effortless.
You make living seem almost worth it again -to be there, to show up for you. Emotions are rarely well-timed, so I’m sorry it took me so long to come around. I hope you remember love like this, like the words I speak and the way i’d take a one way ticket to wherever you may go- to find out you may not be as shy as you thought you were. Realizing you will be okay, because at the end, I hope to be there just in time to catch you.
