I want sweaty palms and timid fingers reaching out to hold one another’s hands. I want flushed cheeks and hesitant steps. I want laugh lines and nervous giggles.
I want kisses, soft and slow at first, teaching us how to love again.
I want to fumble over our words and have our feelings come out all wrong. I want to speak and not make any sense. I want to get lost in eyes, in embraces. I want to wonder what each other is thinking, but be too afraid to ask.
I want to ask and to know, even when it hurts.
I want tears and pain and quietness, just listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. I want moments where a simple touch says everything our words can’t. I want fights because fights show that we care enough to state our opinions, while still learning how each other truly feels.
I want fights because I want to know we aren’t running. We are both choosing to stay, wherever this life takes us.
I want to go through phases, watch one another grow up, laugh at the silly things we do and the way we used to be like children, and still are in so many ways. I want to flip through photo albums of our memories, recounting the way we felt, and that dizziness still so alive in our chests.
I want to hold you when you cry, brush the tears off your cheeks, play with your hair until you fall asleep with your head in my lap. I want you to do the same for me, carve a little space in the blankets for my body, and hold me until my eyes close.
I want to fight through the storms of this life together. I want to trust in each other, even when we know words and promises can fail. I want us to get angry, to feel, to yell and shout and say things we can’t take back, but still somehow find each other, still somehow learn to forgive.