I wrote this after spending a weekend with a guy I am in love with that lives 500 miles from me. If you have ever been in love with someone you just couldn't have, you may sympathize with this story.
Smallest Things
I don't require much. I realized that the other night with you. I hadn't seen you in what seemed like an eternity, but just the sight of you walking towards me erased the time in between. I realized that the 2,412,960 feet keeping us apart had been reduced to the ten feet you were from me then. Then you hugged me, and for the first time in over a month, I was complete. You give me the same feeling as putting in the last piece of a 1000 piece puzzle with no picture to guide the process. The puzzle is infinitely hard to configure, but you compete it.
We got to where we were going, and walked along a dimly lit path. When you crossed your arms because you were cold, and I almost got disappointed in myself for not being able to predict that you might be cold in the night air. Before I even thought about it, I gave you my jacket. I couldn't stand seeing you need something, even something as basic as warmth. As we walked on, you stepped sideways occasionally to avoid things in the way, rubbing against me as you did. Your touch on my arm covered my entire body in goose bumps -- secretly wishing I never had to let you step back the other way. All that emotion, in the fraction of a second your arm touched mine.
As we sat in the backseat of the car, everything else disappeared to me. Nothing mattered except that you were there. The backseat had become my entire universe, even the front seat and the dark world outside the glass were distant memories. The foot in between us seemed like a gaping canyon keeping us apart. I found myself looking at you more often than not, wanting to ease the fear in my mind that this was a dream, and I was still hundreds of miles from you.
You went home early that night; you were tired and needed to sleep. When we dropped you off I wanted to get out and hug you goodnight so badly, but thought it may be too much. You took off my jacket, and handed it to me through your open door. As we wished you a good night, I smelled the collar of my jacket, and the memories of that simple smell filled my head with enough to keep me quiet and lost in my own thoughts for the rest of the night.
On the flight home I drifted off to sleep as the storms raged around the plane. I was back on your front porch, hearing your footsteps come down the stairs right next to the door. The feeling of knowing in less than a second you would open the door, and I would be with you once again. As I hugged onto you and the smell again filled my nose and heart -- a loud clap of thunder and some turbulence woke me back up. And I remained silent as the feet between us grew again from 0 to 2,412,960. Then I realized that at any time, I could just drift off and that huge distance could melt away, and I could hug onto you as tight as my dreams would allow.
I miss you.