what a comforting thought, that the person i'm meant to be with is out there somewhere in the world. maybe he's in the same predicament as i am. we want to love something, someone, or a maybe just a new dimension of ourselves, but we can't find a compatible outlet. maybe we're both just crazy because we romanticize every step to falling in love. maybe he's just as impatient as i am in the waiting game. if i were yelling, "marco!" to the universe, he'd probably be muttering (because he insists it's manlier to do so in private), "polo."
maybe he's also fighting to be independent, but feels shackled to the remnants of past lovers. maybe he's also consumed with haunting memories and fears of being alone, which will leave him in the same empty coffee house on a friday night, reading a book, having a cup of coffee, and enjoying a pre-made playlist of indie rock. he doesn't really want to be there, but he really doesn't want to be alone. how exciting this makes me to move on and venture into life, with hands available for holding, a heart free to be captured, and a lifetime waiting to invest. maybe right now, you're out there thinking of one day meeting me too. i can't wait til we meet, cause i know i'm going to love the shit out of you. and you're going to love the shit out of me too. we won't have to fight to make things work, we won't have to compromise to the point where neither of us are happy, and we won't have to argue about who gets to be baby spoon (because presumably, you like being the protector, and i like being the protected).
maybe you're broken like me. maybe when we put our pieces together, we'll become an avant-garde version of a whole. we'll be happy knowing that we complement each other just right. we'll both be more than okay with the thought that we wouldn't make sense without one another.
you'll support me when i'm struggling with art ideas by volunteering to pose nude for me. you'll laugh as i tease and doodle you with crooked eyes, stubby limbs, and missing fingers.. (even though it's a completely unfair representation of your wonderfully sculpted, beautifully compiled self). i'll smile and pretend that i'm laughing at the horrific work, but i'll really be smiling because, in short, you make me happy.
i'll support you when you're not having a good day by holding you. i'll remind you of all the wonderful things you are, all the reasons i love you. i'll wake up early and make you pancakes the next morning. maybe naked. probably naked. i'll probably break something, drop something, or burn myself in the process of that, but you don't embarrass me about being completely incompetent in the kitchen. you'll call me clumsy, then give me a kiss on the forehead for trying. you'll eat the terrible pancakes i've made and you'll tell me you enjoy them, in between picking out eggshells and drinking large gulps of water.
on the weekends, we'll wake up and lay in bed together. we'll read the paper together. we'll do crossword puzzles together, read comics out loud and talk in unrecognizable (and completely incorrect) accents together. we joke about how sick we are of each other, and though it may sometimes be true, it's a sickness we don't want a cure for. we make plans for our future, and we keep it documented in our "christine + ______ vs. the world!" journal. in our minds, life is an exciting adventure. we want to taste, see, smell, experience the world. we want to be transformed by our experiences, unafraid that these experiences will change who we inherently are. all growing is done together, because we're rooted in the same pot bound by common denominators of unconditional love.
come night, we're quiet because we're tired. we'll speak occasionally, only to mention that we're hungry. we're both too lazy to get out of bed, so we stay put in worn in t's and underwear, holding hands til we doze off.
when dining at restaurants, we'll both already know that what we order is half of the others. we like sharing the good things in life with each other! we'll take bubble baths and unwind with our favorite brews. maybe it'll be wine by then. does a more sophisticated palette come with age? we'll laugh about how we're experiencing classy buzzes. we'll talk in french accents, and drink with pinkies up. we'll kiss and snuggle til our lips are chapped. then we'll reenact the scene from celeste and jesse forever, as we smear tube excretion all over our lips. then we'll laugh about how immature we are, even though we're both secretly enjoying crude humor.
what i'll love most about you is the fact that you're not just a lover, you're also a friend. you're someone i'd choose to have in my life, even if there weren't any labels that gave us binding obligations. you'd hear me out and you'd want to talk about the issues i have with you. you'd want me to vent, and equally so, you'd want to share your struggles with me. we'd speak without apprehension, because we both know and trust that all we do and say is in, with, and for love. for life.
whoever you are,
wherever you may be,
i'm ready to be yours.
