i never told you

i looked at this blank screen for nearly an hour going back and forth about what i was trying to say and what i'm still not willing to.  so i'm just gonna close my eyes and type this from memory and hope that when i open them, i don't misspell every single word.

i've always known love.  i've always had a peculiar way of knowing who i love very early on.  it feels like a gift but a bigger part of it feels like a curse.  imagine knowing within weeks that you could potentially be with someone for a lifetime.  imagine knowing that the way he kisses you will be the same way he kisses you on your wedding day.  it's a beautiful gift but a very expensive curse.  i don't even know how i acquired this clarity but i can't remember a time i didn't have it.  i've been right every single time too.  i've looked at someone from across the room or spoken to them thousands of miles away and i've been right.  i've always known who i was capable of loving while also knowing that they would love me back.  and after all this love, this is not to say that i've gotten it right.  love is not the equivalent of success and so it's only brought me so far.  but even in the things that i've known were to come, i've done unimaginable things.  though i know that love exists, i've never been able to narrow it down into how.  people love so differently.  no two feelings have been the same.  every single one has had their own obstacles whether it be distance, infidelity or broken pieces trying to come together to make a whole.  the battles are unique and tiring but there some beautiful things that happen that can only be described as memories.  and now i'm in that place again, foreshadowing something that may have already happened.

he swells inside my spirit like oceans over miles of sand

stars creep over my shoulders to dance with my tears

and i know when i wake in the morning, i'll still be thinking about last night

his voice leaves fingerprints on my lips so much so that every time we speak, we touch

time skates between us on fragile ice marked up by the strokes we once swam

the clouds hold on to our pillow talk and the words rain down like sulfur

stinging the very inside of our eyelids so that we are compelled to keep staring at one another

he makes me want to believe in good things, white dresses and receptions

and though i want him to know that the conversations our souls have is really the love our bodies make, some secrets need no prompting

i want so desperately to tell him how broken i am, but that's impossible when he makes me feel whole

so i let the past flow like rivers beyond us and sit still like lakes below us hovering over the possibilities that who i am will be who he loves and who i was won't be someone he knows

it's a difficult persuasion to know something you can't believe in 

and i want to tell him so bad that i know how this is gonna end...

i want to tell him that it's not.

it's.

not.

gonna.

end.