Dreaming out aloud

I keep thinking about you, but you already know that. One of my
weaknesses – any real emotion, and all notions of secrecy disappear. I
literally see myself picking up the phone and dialing your number, I
can see your finger pressing the 'answer' button and I can hear myself
say, "Hey you !!!" and you for once saying..." heyyyy
maaaa or heyy baabe" subconsciously... It isn't in my control.

But I have been thinking about you. You know, I told you that I loved
you, so long ago... yeah, I did, apparently and I still do every night
whatever happens...Must seem like a long time ago when we both said
it,meant it with every bit of our being... lol... But I did say it. I
did mean it too, in some silly, infatuated, head-rush-inducing manner,
I love you. A year ago.

I still do.

Only it is a different love now; calmer, more implicit, less rushed,
stronger. But also, it is a love less inclined towards entertaining
hormonal urges or temper tantrums or frequent hanging-up
sequences...Yeah, I don't get pissed..sad and numbed over maybe. I
suppose that makes it completely useless to you. When I can call you
and crib about something that hurt me or.... try and ask you questions
so we can have one of those famous all night convos debating world
issues or the purpose of life as we know it... When you can call me
(theoretically) and talk about the same old same old with the same old
same old. When I can imagine doing exactly this, ten years from now,
when you and I will be famous and bitter (more than we are now, babe,
more). I think we'll both die of an overdose of cynicism. Won't that
be perfect? That didn't make sense. haha. We'd be happily married
officially I suppose... I hope so. A kid in tow.. lol.. our dreams?

Sometimes, I can't think of a place, a thing, a city, without thinking
of you. Of us on the sidewalk. Of us smoking cigarettes, looking cool
because we didn't want to look cool, of us laughing at morons, of us
drinking and singing and drinking and laughing and drinking and making
love and long drives going everywhere and no where and fumbling for money. It was a good time, wasn't it? I was happy. And sometimes, that sense of you holding me
with an arm over me engulfs me, and I almost stop doing whatever I'm
doing and I almost stop breathing.

Take me back to that one month when we couldn't wait for life to
begin? And when we could always turn to " I don't want to miss a
thing" for some therapy. Take me back. I don't think I grabbed enough
memories from then. And every day I forget something else, and I frown
in despair, trying to remember what it was that you had said that made
me giggle so. Jog my memory. Write it down. Whisper it into my
fingers. Something. But if you can't, I understand.
In the meantime, I'll keep calling hoping you'll say "Hey babe..I
missed you so much"