Right now I’m cold, but not in the way you’d imagine.
My icy toes and goosebumps can’t be cured with warm socks and blankets. No amount of hot tea or soup will heat up the frosty hole i feel inside.
In November I’m going home. Not home to San Diego, though. Home to your arms, to be held and caressed and kissed. Because home is where your heart is, and I left mine to keep yours company.
Night should be the easiest part of the day, the time to unwind and let loose. But that isn’t always easy, because as I undress and let my hair down, I remove today’s emotional armor, and with the things that keep me from realizing my feelings gone, I’m left with the loneliness and longing i’ve had every night for a long time, the experience that only subsides when you’re here in the flesh to assure me you’re not going anywhere, a lie from your lips so sweet my desperate ears yearn to believe it.
But when I close my eyes those thoughts slip away, revealing the perfect world of you being here with me, a reality only readily available in my dreams.
I hope to see you there.