It was a stupid fight that's been over for weeks. But I can't move past this one statement, because on some level I feel it, too. I mean, I've felt it before. Not in such a hateful way or in a moment of anger, but laying on my bed naked after getting out of the shower, letting the soft breeze air dry my skin figuring out what to wear on our date. Feeling the ticking of the clock, worrying that each moment I make him wait will frustrate him, but still unable to get moving. Wishing I didn't have to rush, wishing I could lounge around in my robe listening to any sort of music I like but he didn't. Wishing now that the tenses of these statements weren't . . . aren't . . . so hard to nail down. Is it a freedom I want long term, or just for now? Just for one night. I faced this moment, a little over a year back, knowing that for one night I could have my cake and eat it, too. Instead I couldn't run from this freedom any faster. I remember bolting down the stairs so fast, I forgot I was running from a decent, yet lost, human being. One who had taught me more than he'd ever know. One worth saying good-bye to, at the very least. I was so sure that night as I snuggled up next to my gentle giant, that he was the one I wanted. Freedom was over-rated, I wanted him. I wanted love. I wanted someone who was hard to walk away from. I wanted a reason to stick around.
But knowing he feels the same sometime. What does this mean to me? To us? It's opened so many questions in my heart I don't know how to quiet them. It makes me wonder if you can really tame a wanderlust or turn your back on the fact that some of us were truly just born to run.
Either way I love him, but I wonder if this is what it's supposed to be like. Laying in each others arms longing for escape, a sea of loneliness found in the inches between you on the king size bed. Even if it's just for one night, or one moment of one night, is this acceptable? Is this love?
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