Sunday, March 23rd 2008

I Don't Want To Be Spaghetti

As I listen to your heartbeat I simultaneously count down the minutes until I have to leave you.
I have to leave soon.
My hands run up and down your chest absentmindedly.
I realize I’m not listening to what you’re saying and I start to feel guilty again.
God, I have to leave soon.

I’m trying so hard, honest-to-God.
I want you.
I want this to work.
The cliche definition of the ultra-good kiss is "fireworks".

For me it’s more like dual existentialism, you know? Like nothing exists but the both of us.
That’s how it is, really.
Each kiss shoots straight through your body, almost burning.
I love that we can smile and laugh mid-kiss. It’s one of my favorite "us" things.
Every kiss is still like that.
Really.
Everyone one of them.

Damn! I’m still not listening to what you’re saying.
I give my head a quick shake and sit up so that I can see your face.
Listen to him for God’s sake I plead with myself;
This is the first time you’ve seen him in weeks!
I never win, even in arguments with myself.
How pathetic.

I need to leave really soon.

I lay down next to him and he points at a cloud.
"That one looks like a racehorse, doesn’t it? Huh? "
"...no, not really."
" It totally does! You have no imagination."

He says this last bit in a sarcastic tone. We both know that my imagination is pretty much all I’ve got.

"What do you see then?"

I really do look for a moment. Intently I search for something in the sky above us. Maybe the stupid fucking answer is up there.
It isn’t.

I breathe in poignantly and draw out my reply.
" I see clouds."
Somehow he finds this funny.
Why does he find me so humorous? Nothing I say is ever any good.

"Look....I really do need to leave soon."
"You don’t seem like you want to leave."
"I - I don’t want to leave. I just need to."
"Do you even like me anymore?"
"What? Why would you ask that?"
"Nevermind...you need to leave. Let’s get going."

I note that the sunset is both purple and orange.