I met you the day my parents celebrated 26 years of marriage. I met you outside the pizza place and knew that you were what I was looking for. I met you after a long day at work. I met you and I was hungry. I met you, and we talked for hours, and I didn’t even eat dinner. I met you and from then on, I wanted to spend each day getting to know you more. I met you and I became someone I thought I’d lost over the years of unhealthy relationships, self-loathing, and the idea that I was happier alone. I met you and I didn’t ever want to say goodbye.
Now, after two weeks of knowing you, I feel like each moment I spend with you is a moment I will never forget. But they all blur together and it just turns into hours of us being together, being happy, and enjoying the moments. In two weeks, you won’t be here. It’ll be your birthday and I won’t be able to kiss you, or give you a present, or make you a meal, or cuddle with you, or look into your beautiful eyes. I’ll be able to call you, maybe, and say “Happy Birthday”, but it won’t be the same.
It amazes me that I’ve only known you for a short few weeks and yet I can’t imagine being without you. I can’t imagine not looking for your truck when I pull up to get coffee and you walk over and kiss me before I leave for my 16 hour day. I can’t imagine not hearing you talk in the cutest voice to your dogs. I can’t imagine not sitting on your lap, looking down into your beautiful eyes and wondering what you’re thinking. I can’t imagine not feeling your touch, as you lay there and gently stroke my skin, because as you say, “it’s so soft that it is addicting”. I can’t imagine not feeling your mustache tickle my lips when we kiss. Or the way each and every time I crack my back, you say “nice one”. Or how I want to talk to you for hours. Or how I finally feel like I’ve met my match.
I don’t want to rush, but feel like there is no choice. When you connect, you connect, and that we did. You’re afraid of relationships and I’m afraid of your fear. You wonder what I’m thinking when I look into your eyes, mesmerized. I’m thinking of the future that we may share together. I’m thinking about how if I tell you this, you’ll run away. I’m thinking about how I’m going to have to say goodbye to you in a few weeks and I don’t know how to deal with that. I’m thinking about how I want to visit you and see you over the summer. I’m thinking about how I’m scared out of my mind. I’m thinking about how now that I’ve been able to show you how beautiful a connection can be, that you’ll meet someone else and forget about me. I’m thinking about how I am starting to fall in love with you, or maybe I already am, or maybe there is no such thing and I just need to appreciate the moment.
I appreciate each moment with you. I appreciate the small things, like the heart-shaped rock you brought me the third time we hung out. Or the pineapple juice you brought over when I made you breakfast after we spent the night together for the first time. Or the way that you’re willing to listen to my ridiculous reasonings on why I don’t chew gum, or drink soda, or eat fast food. Or the way that I don’t judge you because you do all those things. I appreciate that you get so distracted when driving that you forget where you’re going, because you’re just too in to talking to me. Most of all, I appreciate the way that you appreciate me.
And one day, maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to tell you all of these things and you’ll agree with me. And we’ll spend each night together. And each day, we will kiss each other. And each moment, I’ll carry you in my heart, because I’m yours and you’re mine and that is all we need. And I will keep you safe.