i can be stubborn
and it’s rare for me to stand in front of a person
and think that i am pretty
or smart or funny
i am really bad at making eye contact when i am attracted to a person
because i get lost
i get lost because i am typically attracted to eyes
those eyes that look like they belong to a dreamer
that look like they belong to someone who is passionate about something
i am typically attracted to the kind of eyes that say “i have a story to tell.”
i tell really bad jokes
i am goofy and a serious dork
i try not to smile when i think that the person i am standing in front of is, in that moment, making me happy
i hate the idea that one day i am going to want really, really badly to be with someone
and that he is going to want really, really badly to be with me
and that we will actually communicate that to each other at the same time
and BAM! we will be together
i hate the idea that i will one day share my life and my son with someone
i don’t hate those ideas because they are things i don’t want
i hate those ideas because:
in order to believe a man when he says he loves me,
i have to believe that i am loveable.
in order to believe a man when he says that my eyes are his escape,
i have to believe in their beauty.
in order to believe a man when he says that who i am is who he can’t live without,
i have to believe that who i am is maybe a little, bit remarkable.
i hate those ideas because:
in order to know that i am with the right guy,
i have to first take responsibility for the risks that i will have take in order to be informed.
i have to take responsibility for the possiblity, that before i can be right, i might be wrong again.
first, we will show each other some of ourselves
then, we will show each other more
and if we make it to some level of trust
i will show him my son
not in some passing introduction, but in some way that says “maybe”
and somewhere in there i will show him to my family
and i will allow myself to be exposed to his.
i hate those ideas because just the thought of it all makes my heart race
and my stomach turn.
i am so paralyzed with fear at the idea of love and lives spent together
i am so frozen in the space between
that space just after all hope has been abandoned
that space where hope has been renewed
but that space is where my heart stops
it halts everything, and says
“i am not ready for what i hope for to be reality”
and with all of my emotions and all of my need to be in a state of feeling
i find myself not making my way to love
and sometimes i want to say
“i can only offer you infatuation
i can only offer to think of you in the background of my day
i can only offer to wonder in what way would you change who i my son will be
i can only offer you my daydreams and my butterflies and my heart’s palpitations
just from hearing your name.
i can only offer to get lost in your eyes in the moments when it has become too late to run from them.
i can only offer in some moment when it feels too late, when ‘it’ feels over, to say i want to give you more,
but in my pain of ‘too late’ i can only offer to act relieved”
and in my infatuation i will probably write tiny poems about you that say weird things like:
i whisper to the wind my thoughts of you and i look at the sky and tell myself that my words are what the birds glide upon and then i know that those words will make it to you through the trees and with the warmth of sunlight my words will greet you and i will know that my words are just what you needed to hear.