This Is How You Know I’m Falling For You

Maxx Miller

I am slipping. Slipping down the slope of ogling eyes and fluttering heartbeat and sweet words on soft music and unscripted (mostly unplanned) smiles painted on my face because of you. The thought of you, dancing in the moonlight, swaying like water on a sparkling river. Or wind, gliding over the palace of my sanity, your hand in mine, pulsing. Pulsing emotions. Pulsing thoughts of forever.

Pulsing daydreams of running my fingers along the length of your hair as we sit on the cold bench under the shade of the two-decade old mahogany tree standing proud. Proud to have witnessed such a scene of love blooming. A best-seller love story unfolding before it.

Still I continue to slip. Slowly so, but gradually. And definitely. I reached my arms up in an attempt to grab onto something. But my hands got a hold of nothing. Nothing but the idea of us walking, as your typical couple would, my arm fixed around your shoulders like it was made to perfectly fit on them.

You would look at me and I would stare back, smiling the same smile you’re wearing. We would slowly kiss, our hearts melting, fusing, and reforming into something great. And people won’t see but they would definitely feel. The gravity pulling between us. Like two different magnet poles we were made to attract, to connect, to be one.

I am tripping. Tripping on a trap you unconsciously laid out around you. Your smile, your look, your touch, your talk, your presence, your glow, such tempting bait to deny this starving heart. Starving for something real and sweet. Longing for every single moment with you in it. Moments to remember you by in times when distance keeps us from each other’s embrace. Your embrace I could only have in dreams.

And I may be falling. Falling for your eyes. Falling for your smile. Falling for your sweet voice. Falling for your touch. Falling for your kindness. Falling for your warmth. Falling for the idea of your love engulfing me. Engulfing my lungs, my eyes, my heart, my love. Filling the whole of me.

Oh how beautiful it could be. To be free from these bounds coiled tightly around me. How magical it would be to finally feel the breeze of freedom against my face, yours against my chest, and the warmth spreading like wildfire from the thump thump thump of this little heart that slipped. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

An almost-23-year-old in constant search of something bigger than himself.

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