I Wanted To Tell Him That I’m Still In Love

I wanted to tell him that I missed him.

I wanted to tell him that I wanted him to hold me like he used to.

I would never tell him though, that I sat in this conference room and watched the door, just to see him— even for a split second— as he walked by. I could hear his voice echo out of the room next door. It floated into my ears— sweet music. It sounded better than the Puccini coming from the computer. It was more delightful than the piano, or the violin, or the cello. He was modern day art; abstract, complicated— not the prettiest picture you’ve ever seen, but nonetheless, the most captivating.

I told him once looking into his eyes was like being weightless; free floating in a blue ocean, watching the sun reflect off the waves. He told me my eyes were like tunnels— dark tunnels where you could see in an instant the secrets to my mind. My “tragic, beautiful, breathtaking” mind, he called it. Maybe thats why he won’t look me in the eyes, he would see my broken heart. He would see it reluctantly beat despite him being gone. He would look, and down the tunnel he would go to my hurt. Maybe that’s why he left to begin with; he knew me too well.

I wanted to tell him, that him laying next to me was the best nights sleep I’d ever have.

The rise and fall of his chest, the tickling scruff of his barely grown in beard, the sound of his heart beating. He was nothing if not alive— wide eyed, open, awake. He could lull me to relaxation with a touch. I watched the door wondering if he’d walk out. I didn’t want to miss him walk by.

I wanted to see him.

On this particular day, I just needed to be reminded that he existed. I needed to know there was a him in the world. I wanted him to come sleep with me, actually, simply, sleep. I so desperately needed sleep. I wondered if he saw the pain I was in, maybe he would do it. Just this once, just for one night— thats all I needed really, one good night’s sleep.

I wondered if that would be enough to sell it— one night only and we don’t even have to talk. We can just close our eyes, breathe, and be there together. The sound of a beating heart to quiet a broken one. Just be still with me, I wanted to plead with him. Because, thats all I wanted— the quiet that existed in his arms, the warmth that existed in his breath. I wondered if I left the building right now, if I went home and laid down, if I would go to sleep. I practiced, I closed my eyes. I saw him. I opened my eyes again.

I’m so tired of seeing him when they close. Why wait until I try to go to sleep at night when I could see him in person; I could sit here, and see him in person. I imagined him walking by. He’ll glance up, possibly. That’s if it all goes well. He’d wave awkwardly, that is, if he’s in a good mood. He’d quickly walk by— thats the only guarantee. But I’ll take it.

I’ll take one second with him in my field of view, rather than a whole day without him.

Because the truth is, I wanted to tell him I’m still in love with him. He knows that though… and he wanted to tell me he doesn’t care.