I keep thinking of the love we had

I keep thinking of the love that we had. I can’t believe that when it was here, when you were here, I was so far away. In some place in my mind that I wouldn’t share with you. So far away. Unable, unwilling to be present.

How is it possible that you can find the perfect love but it finds you not ready? The perfect love at an imperfect time. That is the meaning of a cruel joke. It is to find the thing you have been looking for all your life, but it is sitting there not wanting to be found, not wanting to come with you.

That is what I did to you and I am sorry.

I am so so sorry.

I keep thinking and wondering. The ‘What ifs’ fill up bucketloads of space in my mind.

I wish you were here now. Standing in front of me. Your black, curly hair uncombed. Your earnest eyes seeking me out again, wanting to find the magic in mine.

This time I would look back at you. I would stare deep into you. I would let you have all my magic. I would hold nothing back. I don’t want this darkness to cloud me anymore. I want you. The way day needs the sun.

I wish you were here now. Asking me if I could be yours again. If I walk to the corner store with you. If I could share a slice of carrot cake from Ipsum Cafe with you. If I could call you at 5am to make sure you would not miss your flight.

Except I don’t want to walk to the corner store love. I want to go to the ends of the earth with you.

I don’t want to share a slice of anything. I want the whole cake to be ours. Together.

I don’t want to call you at 5am from across town. I want to roll over in bed, and snuggle into you.

Every single morning.

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