Tuesday, September 28
Let Me Tell You @ Tuesday, September 28, 2010
When I wake up beside you, I'd tell you how perfect you look. I'd tell you that you're more beautiful than the sunlight gracing your face and hair. And I know you'd smile. I know you'd blush, because that's the way you are, and you'd flash me the warmest of smiles that stops my heart from beating every single time. And I'd tell you how beautiful you are and how immaculate you look but you'd just hit me on the shoulder and tell me I'm lying. I'm not though, and I'd never lie to you.
We'd go out, probably for lunch and eat somewhere classy. I'd take you to the finest restaurant in town just because you deserve that much. But you'd never agree to it. You'd take me somewhere I never knew existed and we'd eat there. I'd have the envy of the entire world. The waiter would spill the soup on my shirt and you'd frown, because that's just the way you are. I'd smile though, not because I like the pain but because of the very simple fact that I'm with you.
We'd walk in the park and I'd hold your hand. You'd blush of course, because that's just the way you are, and I'd tell you that I'm never going to let it go if I could. We'd find a spot near the lake and, as we sit down on the grass to talk, I'd have the envy of the world. I'd tell you that we must have found the perfect spot in the whole park and then you'd smile. And then I'd tell you that while you're beside me though, it all completely disappears. You'd smile again, brighter this time, and you'd tell me I'm lying; but trust me, I'm not.
We'd go home and I'd cook you dinner. I'd burn the steak or I'd forget to cool the wine. But you'd probably just smile and tell me it was perfect, even though it's not, because that's just the way you are. We'd talk for hours on the roof deck of the building. Your eyes would sparkle brighter than the bright lights of the city. I'd tell you that but you'd just tell me I'm lying. You'd look at the dark night sky and you'd tell me that someday you'll be famous and then it would be my turn to smile because I know for a fact that you already are even though you don't need to be. And then I'd have the envy of the entire world.
We'd go to bed and I'd sprawl my arms to hold you. You'd smirk first then you'd hold me instead, because that's just the way you are. And then you'd fall asleep, silent like the slumbering world. I'd kiss you, lightly, and I'd tell you I love you. And in that moment while being with you, I would have the envy of the world. I'd tell you, as you slept, that I've never been happier in my entire life. I'd tell you that I never regretted the decision that I would love you forever when I saw you the very first time—during that beautiful afternoon when you dimmed everything else and you became my world. I'd kiss you, lightly, and I'd never sleep when my very dreams are right beside me.
I smile to myself now. I'd tell myself that I'm going to tell you tomorrow and that whatever would happen is beyond me; but then I'd ask myself if I could ever bear the dream to shatter. I'd ask myself the same damning question I ask myself everyday and I'd always not have an answer. My life might shatter the very moment you are no longer my dreams. Would I, could I, should I risk the dream for a better or worse reality? I'd take to the sky and fly with these wings crafted from my will; but I'd fall, like Icarus, because that's just the way you are.
Labels: Heart