I’d love to love you. Yes, I’d love to hold you tight and whisper in your ear that I do, I really do.
I’d love to hug you. Feel your heartbeat against mine, try to remember your very scent, and feel you so close to me… so close I’d be out of breath.
I’d love to touch your face. Close my eyes and feel them– the curve of your lips, your thick eyelashes, sharp nose and boney cheeks…
I’d love to remember you, the man who has made me laugh. You, who have taught me how to love, who made me believe in love once more and you, who took the time chasing me, to feel my every downpour of aches and bitterness, and then try to make them yours. I want to remember you so bad.
But I can’t.
We are, like how Emily Dickinson would say, bound to opposing lands.
“The hours slid fast, as hours will,
Clutched tight by greedy hands;
So faces on two decks look back,
Bound to opposing lands.
And so, when all the time had failed,
Without external sound,
Each bound the other’s crucifix,
We gave no other bond.”