• Cosmic Collision

    by  • December 20, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    I remember it. It was a night after heavy drinking on your part, again. I was always worried about you. You drank more than I had ever seen anyone drink. You would become so happy, so bubbly, so outgoing. Throwing your arms around me, practically snogging me in the middle of any party. I wanted nothing more then to parade around there with you, be all over you with the same enthusiasm you had for me. But I loved you too much to take advantage of your intoxication. I believed you loved me. I saw the way you looked at me then. But I was still unsure and you were my best friend.

    It was a day unlike any I can remember. We had been writing together for quite some time. But this time was different. Before it felt like we had been holding back, saying things but meaning other things. It was complex, confusing, yet inevitably enticing. No one had ever fascinated me as much as you.

    You came practically crawling into the room. Me sitting down, just raising my eyebrows at you. You told me you believed this was it. I stood up and went over to you, and said “well we might as well write one more song.”

    You were unbelievably hungover, so out of it. But the words came pouring out of you as though they had been fighting to leave your mouth for so long. I couldn’t help but complete the melody and add to the lyrics, we didn’t even talk about what we were doing. It just felt as though we were finally being free. Finally saying exactly what we wanted to.

    It took us 25 minutes. 25 minutes to spill everything we had been wanting to say since day one. I was stunned. I still am stunned. Look at how far we’ve come now. But that song is still my very favorite of ours. I listen to it before I go to sleep, when I wake up, when I’m feeling down and when I miss you.

    So much happened after that. Always confusing with us, on and off, being something, being nothing. Never saying exactly what our intentions were. You would kiss me as though I was water and you had been dehydrated when we would go months without seeing each other. I would return this intensity with the force of your voice and more. Every time we would collide it would be as though all the songs we had written began playing together all at once. I could swear just us together could make the piano play itself.

    I would tell you I loved you. You would return it. But I was always left unsure of what it meant. Of what you meant. I would see the looks we would get from the others. The whispers. I wanted to join them in their conversation because I had no idea what was going on myself.

    I would watch you go from guy to guy, heartbreak to heartbreak. Curling up next to me, kissing me, making love to me. Whispering in my ear through sobs of how you loved me. I would stroke your hair and look you in the eyes, searching. Searching for the sincerity, was it desperation? Loneliness? Sadness? Heartbreak making you delirious?

    Nothing we did or said was ever defined. It was as though it was routine, as necessary as the water we drink and the food we eat. But I could never help admiring all that you are from everywhere I was. Anything that you would do. Laughing, singing. When I would make you laugh. Messing up what I was doing from you distracting me. Coming up behind me and kissing my cheek, holding my hand.

    You make my head spin. You are the most constant yet most confusing aspect of my life. I love you. I love all that you are. I want you. I want to be with you. I never want to see you in the arms of anyone else again.

    But until you tell me, until you tell me for real, we remain the same.

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