Alone; there are so many people in this world that fear it, whereas I’ve embraced it for some time. To me, there’s nothing better than being so alone that the steam from my coffee cup is the only thing that fills the space around me. I like taking walks alone and thinking about everything, all of the things that I don’t like saying out loud to people. The breeze around me outside at my favorite spot is the only place I like to say certain things, so that the whispers of the leaves are the only responses.
When I lay down at night and I toss and turn because my mind is racing, there’s nobody next to me to care or be annoyed. So, I can get up and turn the lights on and busy my mind until it’s tired without anyone to complain.
I want you to prove me wrong, tell me that my alone isn’t as good as being with you. But I don’t want you to tell me in words, tell me in your actions.
When we’re driving, grab my hand and squeeze it in such a way that tells me my late night drive alone doesn’t mean anything unless I’m with you. When we lay on your couch together, play with my hair and look at me so I know that I’ve wasted so much time for years by staring blankly at my computer screen as Netflix streams for hours in my dark bedroom. When we’re sitting at your table eating, laugh at the way I awkwardly try to eat without getting the messiest of foods on me or getting something stuck in my teeth. This way, I’ll know that you’re better than my solitude in the mornings, and silence at night as I sit cross legged in a chair alone at my table.
Stop me from thinking that I’m too good to be with anyone, and that my guarded heart isn’t allowed to beat for anyone else. Destroy my idea that everyone is the same and make me angry that I don’t leave in the middle of the night after you’ve fallen asleep; instead the morning sun will highlight all of my flaws that sit in my skin and I won’t try to hide my face in a pillow. Make me look forward to all of the things you say we’ll do together, and give me courage to believe in your words and dive into them the way I secretly want to. When you grab the sides of my face and stare into my eyes, make sure you do it when we’re sober too, and don’t let me think you can only like me when our words are laced with alcohol.
Be different, don’t be like the rest. That may be too much to ask, and maybe it’s not. Don’t waste my time please, my heart is tired and my brain is weary on believing in anyone but me. I don’t ask these things because I don’t trust you, but because you’re giving me faith day by day, and I’m getting comfortable. And that scares me. So, as I let myself slowly open up, be the one I can say “I told you so” to people about when they try and talk me away from you. Be the one I can talk about without tears in my eyes. Be the one I don’t have to say good riddance to like all the rest, but most importantly, be the one that made me say I was wrong, because then my stubborn personality will say for once that being wrong will have never felt so right.