Again

I'm standing outside his door, on the steps, with my heart in my hand. In the same skin, I've been standing in when I was with him. Heedfully trapped in love with someone that is fighting his vulnerability. He's turning around in order to treat his affection towards me with contempt.

I keep reliving this moment, when we were laying, facing each other and I had my hoodie on, he would play with my fingers, intertwine them in between his, and I would play with his baby hair.

Bottled my soul, didn't want my lips to foolishly whisper how much I adored you, how much I still do.

My heart's remembrance of us magnifies Love's tangibility. You had managed to ease the burden of my past, a past that you feared you'd fall victim to. Its going to be one of those loves, in which I look around to see if you're head is down, smiling at my foolishness, my flaws even when I may be 46 states away. The love I want to caress the outline of my face, woo me when I'm having trouble sleeping at 2am. The love I'd love to wake up at 7:45am, to hear growl. The love that would affectionately touch my shoulder, till I'd turn around , pull me in with his arm around my waist. The love that would place his hand on my stomach to calm my fears of tomorrow.

Its crazy, you know, someone can come into your life and sweep you off your feet without your consent when you least expect it, and all you desire through out it all is to never touch the ground. I want to run into you again, I don't want to let you let me be. Each day passes I pray that you'd see that I'm still here, that to me, you've been the closest to Love.

I watch you as you play with you fingers and I can't help but trap myself in our past.