Hurricane

Here I sit, on a cold floor...alone...to gather my thoughts.

Sometimes I wonder if love will ever happen to me. It seems absurd really, wondering that at my age, and with my life. Maybe when I settle down one day...but there's one thing wrong with that. I don't want to settle down. That's not what love is anyway, you can't have love that's settled down. It has to be bruising, exciting, painful, wonderful and...everything that I need right now.

I'm alone, more alone than I've ever been in my life.

They say love is like a drug, like the best feeling in the world times four. I think it must be more like you're just about to commit suicide, and you jump off the cliff, ready to die...then you grow wings. That must be it. It has to save you from everything you've ever been afraid of and everything that could ever hurt you. I'm scared to death of something that powerful taking over my life, but I want it more than I can express.

I want the poetry of it, more than anything else. It's romantic and soul-devouring stuff. Or at least, it must be...it has to be.

It's all I believe in anymore.

Aside from the life-changing and heart-crushing power of it, though, I want the small things that go along with giving your soul to another person. I want to go to sleep with somebody beside me who won't be gone in the morning. I want to share cigarettes and coffee, watch old movies and hold hands in parks. I want somebody to touch my cheek and tell me they love me, and mean it with everything that they are. I want hugs that last for hours until we both fall asleep. I want kisses that make me feel so much I could cry. And I do cry thinking about it, this love I'll probably never have.

You've always told me that love must be like a hurricane, sweeping away everything safe and leaving you exposed, with only trust protecting you. I think that's the best description I've ever heard...and I'm strangely jealous that you have a better idea of it than I do, and that you said it with such conviction. Like you already knew what it felt like and you already had what I wanted. It wasn't just jealousy of what you had though, it was the stirring of something I'd never felt before in my life. Confusing and brilliant all at once, just like you.

A door opens and I don't even look up, lost in thought and on the edge of frustrated tears when I feel your hand on my shoulder. The feeling of your gentle fingertips through my thin tee shirt sends tingles up my neck and down my spine. I feel you crouch down next to me and your breath ghosts against my cheek for a sweet, fleeting second. Your hand moves to the middle of my back in an accidental slide and I draw in a shaky breath. "You okay?" you ask, looking completely concerned and worried. It breaks my heart.

I look into your eyes...and...and...

Sometimes I wonder if love will ever happen to me. Then I think of you and realize that it already has.