December 28, 2013

How I Think of You Before We Meet Again.

It’s been a while since we’ve met.

I have magicked up thoughts of how you will be, how you might smile at me when you see me coming down the stairs to meet you, how the collar of your shirt will be turned upwards.

I think of how I will give you a hug, nonchalantly, so you won’t know just how my heart is tap-tap-tap dancing inside my chest; how I might make an exaggerated remark about just how glad I am to see you again because it’s been so long that I’m starting to forget what you look like!

You will laugh a little, fall in with my step and say you are glad too, to hang out again.

Before we meet, I think of the stories I will tell you—all the big, small, funny, sad things. I think of how I will tell you the stories, so that you will feel a part of my life, like you’ve lived a part of it with me. I will tell them to you with the vague hope that they will make you laugh, make your eyes widen, make you tell me your stories in turn.

I imagine the pauses between our conversation as we stop to drink and I can see your eyes wander off for those few tiny seconds as you think of the next thing to tell me. I will brush hair off my face, carelessly-on-purpose, so you won’t think me too eager to hear you tell your next story, even though, of course, I am.

I hope, distantly, that maybe you are looking forward to see me too. But I don’t expect too much; this is too early on to expect anything. I would like to think that you’ll just enjoy our conversations and value these evenings together as we talk and drink overpriced drinks and laugh about inconsequential things. I hope that you will enjoy me for me—I think maybe this is good enough for now.

I think—I hope—that as the evening comes to a close and we’re moving out, you’ll say that you had a great time and that you really loved the places I brought you to this evening. I blush so that you can’t see me turn fuchsia in the night gleam; it makes me happy to know you liked the things I like. I imagine that you’re not just saying it to be polite because then you say you want to come back here again and try the _____ next time. I tell you, “Oh if you like this, you’ll love _____!”

We are tumbling over each other to talk. You say, “well, let’s go!” and, as we start to make our way out and head home, we make plans to meet again. You tell me that you’ll be in touch tomorrow to decide where to meet. I think of your eyes crinkling as you smile, you are looking forward to more spend time with me, and I will get to see you yet again.



How I Think of You Before I Sleep

How I Think of You When We’re Together

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Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: Rui Lopes / Pixoto

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