We could do nothing and everything and love it.
13:40
The thought of us hanging out in my room or at a café. I could see us sitting somewhere outside mainly, like upper West Side bluffs and watch the sun rise and set. I could listen to your unstable inhales and exhales as you gaze into my eyes. As your heartbeats and as your chest moves to the motion of the waves and I would still be utterly content. You could do nothing and I would still be intrigued by your vastness-- of your mind, your breath, and that damn layer of skin that protects you from spilling. How you're so far away, yet so very very close. We're like that theory-- mocking the theory of repulsion and attraction. Or I could try to understand what goes on in your head, knowing I could simply just ask. Perhaps question why you're insecure, when everything about you is perfect to me.
Knowing you've told me millions and millions of times. I would pound the side of my clenched fist into your chest, asking why you're with someone that hardly seems to satisfy you completely-- encircling you with insecurities and instability. But life is unstable and what is it to be normal? Perfect or perfection rather? She would give a part of herself, only a piece, but I would give you all of me, whole-- not broken, but complete.
|nr