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The timing of love

Love isn’t meant to be stored. Pushing it off until the world is ready for it is impossible. A great writer once said that people can postpone a lot of things in life- but love isn’t one of them. Love will build up, thin the edges and stretch like a birthday balloon. It’s 3 am and I hate wasting my time with you by sleeping. I’ve begun counting down the days until state lines will no longer separate us. Sovereign states can’t make those decisions for us. I am here-with my entire heart blown up into pieces. One day, you will be able to pick up the lost parts of me.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I’m walking away. I won’t be turning back.”

I miss you, not because of the 827 miles that it would take to come home to you, and not because of the way your shirt smells when you come back inside after a smoke.

I miss you because of the way you lean on me when you’re drunk. The way you hold me when I come back to bed at 2 AM and you’re half asleep. The way every time you leave, I wish I could ask you to stay.

I miss you, not because of the way you want me and won’t admit it. Not because of the way you watch the way my back arches in the mirror. And surely not the way you steal the covers back from me in the middle of the night.

I miss you because I long for your touch. 827 miles from you and I can feel each of your fingers holding my waist, and how it would feel to be able to hold your hand in public.

But I don’t miss you because you miss me. I miss you because you don’t miss yourself.