yes it is true that I have been thinking of you lately. more than is healthy (you even woke me this AM at 3:45 and then I could not return to sleep - so here I sit, holding my chair for another day and it is you that pushes around mine other thoughts, it is you that insists, and so I will stop fighting and we will see what more you are about). and we know that the line between thinking about and actualizing is not real, that it only exists if we insist it must, and I know this better than the many but instead of comfort it fills me with fear which we both know is not true because the fear is already mine, you did not place it there, but rather you remove my interest in other distractions and now, ah, I see, here it is, this vile mess: it would choke the air right out of me, it would bash my skull.
yes it is true that you and I have not danced yet and we have not sipped wine (is it true that on occasion you prefer a good belt of whiskey?) or touched lips or even fingers. I have not brushed the hair from your face, felt the flush in your cheeks, tickled your fancy into a smile that I can believe belongs only to me. we have not argued. you have not yet begun with my instruction (if you were unsure that I speak to you, now you know), inherent to our agreement and you have not yet even given me directions. but we both know those are nothing but details, not even a hill of beans, tiny annoyances that churn my stomach for no good reason (will we laugh later, when recounting?), and that our collision is already scheduled, it is in the books. It is all but ordained.