Spend the night with me, love, will you? I've played it on my head several times, falling asleep in your arms. In a big white cozy bed, waking up on a lazy Saturday morning. Me making a big brunch, while waiting for you to wake up. Then we will sit together with a book or just looking at each other over a big cup of coffee that takes forever to finish. We will then be so at peace, quiet and content with this knowing that today is all ours and that it shall end only when we say it does. Only when it reaches the point that we establish that our days will be made up of those beautiful spontaneous conversations mulling over the world's affairs or the man we see everyday walking in front of my house with the funny looking hat. Probably we will finally have the courage and humor to talk to him and invite him over for tea and small piece of cake your mother sends every Friday.
Still at the same time, I wonder if this will be enough for me. If I will be happy to spend a single night with you and wake up one day a week next to your body. Because they say that we will always want more and the reason why love affairs like this end up in tragedy is due to natural human transcendent. I want you so much that I can't bear to tie you down to this domesticated desire, to the irrational demand of emotion and companionship. For I know ours do not depend on the mediocre conventions of what they taught us 'being together means.' We are already together. I don't understand what a dumb ass I could be to think otherwise, or to expect otherwise. I am probably just like the rest and want what they have.
One day, perhaps we will have it. The same way we didn't think we would find our bodies this close to each other. If we have waited that long, what's wrong with waiting some more?
