musings on hope.

my eyes are closed but i know i'm awake. i can hear the humming of the overhead fan. i can hear the slow, steady and deep breaths coming from either side of me. i take stock of my body. it feels heavy but supported in this bed. my arms are usually wrapped around something. my side feels numb from spending the last few hours lying on it. my blood feels like sludge coursing through my veins.

i immediately check for my phone. more than likely, it's near my head or under my pillow or just past my finger tips. one of the earbuds on my headphones is still in my ear, but there's not a sound coming from it. a smile stretches across my face as i remember how the word "baby" rolls off his tongue and over his lips. it's really hard to get off the phone at night. i'm usually flexing my toes to get some burst of energy to keep talking...keep breathing...keep whispering. anything just to stay connected.

the pillow that i'm snuggling magically transforms into a warm body. i imagine smells. i create the texture of his skin in my mind. i can almost feel the rise and fall of his chest. he's perfection only because i've made him so. i imagine what it would be like...what it will be like when this imagination of mine will be able to draw from memory. what will it feel like when it's not a dream, but a reality?

i can only hope. i hope i'm what he imagines me to be. that i'm the amazing, beautiful words he uses to describe me. i can only hope. i hope he's what i imagine. that he's as amazing and beautiful as i know him now. i hope my mind fails. i hope it fails to imagine what he is. i hope it misses the mark. i want him to be more than what my small, inexperienced mind can create. 

here's to hope. here's to running to something. here's to you.

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