The way your large hands produce charcoal lines sweeping into human forms entices me. The way you laugh at my suggestions of infinite loneliness, and ask, are we not already married? It makes me stare into clouds for far too long while others talk to me about things that really do not matter. The same way I would say yes if you asked me in person. The same way I'm scared to be with you because I'm not good enough, but you say "I found you attractive years ago." and ask why, in truths name, will I not move into that city with you? I wonder if you really do, or you just feel bad because I let you lean on me. I tell you every few months I tried forgetting you. But it gets worse, I guess I shouldn't try anymore, as my mind will never let you go. You appear in my dreams every night, and I wake up disappointed because I can not see your face, and hear your voice, and see that dark messy hair bunched between your long fingers in deep thought.
You get mad when I forget things, but I could never, in a thousand lifetimes, forget you, my dear.
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