What I Want Now

Remember when we were talking? It was months after I’d left you. I will always be glad we managed to sustain a friendship after that first relationship fell through. Remember, though? It was just a text message. I remember where I was. Sitting on the floor in my friend’s room. By the desk. I don’t remember what I was doing, aside from messaging you. I probably had my music on. Playing in my ear and ignoring whatever ruckus there was from the computer beside me and the bed in front of me.

Although, I have to admit, I don’t remember the entire conversation. Just one thing. Probably one of the most important things I’d ever said to you. You probably don’t remember. I told you I’d marry you. Not a promise, of course. What I meant was I could see myself with you forever. Marriage or otherwise, really. But I said it. I could marry you, and spend my life with you.

I even want that from you now. Now, even though we’re together and I still contemplate leaving you. Now, even though I fell in love with you again without falling out of love with another. Now, even though the platonic relationship I’m seeking can’t be found with you.

I wish my intangible love and faith could be enough. Without reserving my body for you alone.