“dont be anxious
dont be worried
i can see it in your face
we’ll figure things out”

when he catches me
before i can get caught up
in my own runaway thought train
when he lassos me with his reality
& pulls me in close

is when i realize
he’s willing to balance
on that fine line
between hope
& reality
for me.

orbit

i don’t ascribe to “the right person” theory
but i do believe people can “click.”

it feels so easy
i didnt ever know,
it could be this easy.

to enjoy listening to someone
to want to do anything to take away their stress
to believe, whole heartedly, completely & truly,
that they are amazing.

we’re those people
circling one another in their own orbit
dancing to their own music that no one else can hear

is this sustainable?
do people do this for the rest of their lives?
because i dont ever want to leave this solar system
or have to stop for water when my legs give out

i just want to keep spinning
pirouetting
because this?
is wonderful.

grey

i wish
i could be the kind of girl
just along for the ride.
revel in the silence
& await the big reveal.
& if he bows out
before it ever gets to that point in this romantic comedy?
it’s fine.
rewrite the script
cast a new leading man.
you still have a movie.

i wish i could be that girl.
more than any other self deprecating thoughts i have–
this one ranks the highest.

but because i can’t
because i’ve tried
and failed
again & again
at trying to be her,
can’t we just have a go at me being this one?

& not consider each time i push for answers
to be two steps backward into the abyss of unknowns?
that grey area
where you can’t tell where the horizon is,
the foreground from the background,
or anything in between
is what got me here
in the first place.

this is me
in the middle of a room
with a hundred different paint swatches of grey
laid out around me
holding each one up to the light
to see if it matches the walls.

“is it more of a ‘classic french grey’? … no? how bout an ‘earl grey’? or ‘gauntlet grey’?

i think i got it–

“agreeable grey”

type A

“is she your type?” i ask, motioning to the smokin’ hot YouTube guru i had playing on his desktop

“come here” he says, pulling me to sit on his lap at the edge of his bed

you are my type” he affirms, wrapping his arms around my waist

“no i’m not” i laugh rolling my eyes, then searching his for a visual contradiction to his words

i find none.

“you are now.” and he kisses me on the cheek

You are the Solution

cliches are born for a reason
they’re cheesy
& lame
& completely out of character

until someone makes you feel the way
you should’ve always felt about another person

they are the reminder
that if what you feel about him
isnt the stuff of love songs on repeat
or throwing pebbles at a girl’s window kind of grand gesture

its not it.
the magic sauce.
the wonderment
& butterflies.

dont settle for your lukewarm feelings

its your heart urging you
to keep lookin’

missing people easily isn’t natural for him
& now that i think about it,
it isn’t for me too.

i’ve had boyfriends go on
long family vacations
even deployments
& they’d have to pull the words out of me
“don’t you miss me yet?” they’d ask.
i’d say it because..
you’re supposed to say it.
but it was usually such a relief to have them away
it told me i could be fine without
which i thought was just because i’m reasonable
independent
just slightly emotionally detached.

but with you,
i’m afraid
i may be at the mercy of my feelings
i’m terrified
i may fall apart when you leave.
& the ache will be a throbbing never ending feeling
that can’t be satiated with texts
& quick layover visits
& facetime
& alexa drop-ins

& you’ll think to yourself,
this girl just feels too much
& assume that this is my M.O when people leave me,

but it’s as if my heart just reserved all this,
just for you.

kis·met

ˈkizmit,-ˌmet/
noun
noun: kismet
  1. destiny; fate.

i may not know if this is the forever kind of thing,
but i ask God
that if its in his plan
to please continue to reveal to me
how wonderful you are
each & every day i have the privilege to even look at you
let alone hold your hand.

& if not,
to please be kind,
& grant me the biggest
boldest
most painful sign
that i cant help but acknowledge.

basically
tear you away from me,
in the most brutal way
because im too caught up in this
to ever do it myself.

he only dates with intention
he doesnt waste his time with girls
he doesnt see a possible forever with

hes cautious
& rational
& thinks ten steps ahead

but somewhere
in those plans
in that practical future
he sees a possibility of us.
im a probability
& i want him to bet on my odds.