I don’t know you well enough for this to be A Thing. I know. My friend says to relax because it’s foolish to throw all my eggs in one basket, let alone, a basket I’m still learning. But I’ve never known how to separate my mind from my heart. I think, it beats. It’s hard to distinguish between the two.
I’m always wondering how you’re doing. I wake up, and I hate how stupid this sounds, you’re on my mind. I think of asking if you’re okay, if you’re happy, if you’re doing all the things you want to be doing. You are so good and I want to kiss the kindness inside you. I want you to be loved in the exact way you love.
I am not play it cool girl. I never have been. When I decide someone is interesting, I can’t let it go. I want to know all of them. I want to trace their insecurities back to roots and kiss the bruised spots.
I won’t sit by my phone hoping you’ll text. Because I’ll go ahead and text you. Even when I say I’m not going to. Even when I say I don’t care and you’re just another dude who kissed me outside a bar. Even when I tell myself you’re just another Los Angeles night.
We’re both ready with our, “You met me at a really weird time in my life…” monologues and I want to rehearse lines with you.
You are still hurting and I’m bleeding too. Maybe we aren’t healed enough for something real. Maybe we will put up walls or someone will run, or it’s all in my head to begin with.
All I know is that every time your name pops up in my screen, I want to know how your day is. And not for sake of small talk. I just want to know.