I wish I knew your expression when you feel an eyelash in your eye. I want to see your face when you’re filled with wonder, when you’re inspired, when you think to yourself, “My God, I could do this for the rest of my life.” I want to see your eyes when they’re filled with the golden colors of sunset, the cool yellows and blues of early morning. I want to walk through museums and point out our favorite paintings to each other, then get coffee after. I want to sit on a hill, covered in the green of grass and the purple of wildflowers, and gaze at everything below us. I want to talk about Greek myths and pirates and kings and queens and biochemistry and the government and how you grew up in Texas. I want to hear your perspective on everything, and I want to replay it over and over in my head to memorize the way your voice sounds and your eyes light up and your forehead creases. I want you and I to get upset over things we find insignificant later, and to huff about and then realize it was only distracting us from the real thing we’re upset about. I want to sit on the couch, facing each other, legs intertwined. I want to talk and resolve and laugh and talk more. I want to listen to your voice as if on tape, playing it every day just loud enough to stretch and reach me in my dreams. I want to know what the slope of your nose feels like when my eyes are closed and to have the shape memorized. I want to know every version of your laugh and smile, and know which parts of your face other than your mouth show them the most. I want to talk about books with you. I want to hear about every single thing that bothers you, not to offer a solution but to give you my shoulder for half the load. I want to know which side we choose to be on when we walk together. I want to know which one of us makes coffee at home, which one goes out to buy coffee and always texts for the other’s order, or whether one person is the master of coffee and does both. I want to know your favorite scents, your favorite flower, your favorite letter you’ve ever read, yours or someone else’s. I want to know if you’ve ever journaled, gotten a funny-looking tan that inexplicably lasted five months, or ever peeled the skin off your lips with your teeth.
Author Notes: Any comments/suggestions are appreciated! This is a short little thing I wrote about someone who is very close to my heart :)
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United States • 18 years old