When I wake up and it is too cold, I stretch my hips and cast my mind out. In these small hours of the morning, the first thing I think of is him. His arms around me, secure. His heat banishing the goosebumps on my bare skin.
When I am just about to fall asleep and my eyes are closed, my thoughts lose focus. That is where he creeps in, with his soft accent and low chuckle. His voice hypnotic and always slightly weary.
When I am in the midst of commute and my ears begin to ache, I let my imagination roam. My arms on his neck in an airport, and a weight lifting from between my shoulders. A weight that buzzes and will not settle – it disappears with a genuine confirmation I whisper against his neck: “you’re real.”
When the TV episodes seem just a few minutes too long, I let myself indulge. I think of a dark living room and two half-drunk cups of coffee. We sit and we discuss all that is taboo; all that I used to keep solely to myself. We swap tastes and limits and safewords, and then escape to a bedroom where the world bursts into vivid color.
When I am drained from the chastising voices of my family and the oppressive heat of the year, I wonder about the furthest place away from them. A corner of the world where he leads me through the city and shows me the mountains, where our hard work comes to fruition. Where our intellects spar in the light of day and wholly unwind under the stars.
When I wonder about the specificity and impossibility of what led me to him, my fists clench and I tell myself the friendship is worth it.
That his voice is worth the ache when I wake in the cold. That his texts are worth the late-night thoughts. That his silence is worth the impatience. That his touch is worth the distractions. That his love is worth the wait.
That he is worth it.
Worth the questions, worth the tears, worth the frustration, worth the wonder, worth the hesitation, worth the laughter, worth the nerves, worth the fear, worth the grief, worth the thoughts, worth the time, worth the joy, worth the –
-Grace T, December 2017
– Do you feel the same when I’m away from you? / Do you know the line that I’d walk for you? / We could turn around and we could give it up / But we’ll take what comes, take what comes – Walking the Wire, Imagine Dragons