I Met You

10 Jul

I met you-

And the world shifted into this new place where-
Shifted?
Shifted.

And the world…
Cracked, right down the middle, putting my heart in two places at once where I find that-
Cracked.

Sank…
Sank right into place where it should always, and never, have been.
Sank.

I met you-

The sun was shining.
And not just shining, but glowing in this new delicious way so that I could feel it on my shoulders, even through the overcast haze, even through the cap sleeves of my T-shirt.

I met you-

And I was just waiting for a magical montage of our relationship to start playing, highlighting the best parts, with intimate and sepia-toned close-ups. Close-ups of you picking an eyelash off of my cheek, and me holding the door open for you while you struggle with my ridiculous amount of bags; You running and hoisting me up over your shoulder in some unknown parking lot, and dipping our feet into a shady fountain under a weeping willow; Sitting on a fire escape with tea light candles flickering while I pour you another glass of wine, and you pushing a cart through Wal-Mart, smirking at me while I gaze longingly and absentmindedly at the book section; Me cooking for you while you sketch some important new building where people who really matter will someday go to do their business, and you opening your eyes at the exact moment I close mine while we lay facing each other on a blanket in a field… all to the soundtrack of some really moving classical piano piece. Or even something really fricken uplifting like Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.”

I met you-

And my thirty minute car rides to work, usually a time for me to stress out and freak out and list all of the “to do’s” that never seem to become “Have done’s,” suddenly became a time where I could enter this foggy, cloudy, misty mind set, only to be awakened by my own voice, belting out The Cars’, “I GUESS YOU’RE JUST WHAT I NEEDED!” and waving happily at people who cut in front of me.

I met you-

And you didn’t force your way in. You kind of did the whole “circle around the block a few times until you find the perfect parking spot where you can just roll right on through, without parallel parking, and BAM the meter still has 2 hours left in it SCORE!!!” thing. (I don’t know if that metaphor works, but that’s what it felt like when you came into my life, sort of.)

I met you-

And for the first time, literally, for the first time in my life, I realized how rare green eyes are, and how special I am for possessing them, and how my hair has this golden-red shiny effect in sunlight, and that maybe it is more beautiful this natural way, instead of the dark color I like to dye it…

I met you-

And I pray more.

I met you-

And I want to be better.

I met you-

And we were roller skating, and going on picnics, and playing with sidewalk chalk, and going to art museums where I told you in a marble corridor that I loved old paintings of ships and I don’t know why,  and flying kites that never ended up fully flying, and doing stupid fun stuff that doesn’t cost much of anything but meant the world to me, because it meant the world to you to see me helping those little wobbly girls on their roller skates.

I met you-

And I couldn’t tell you where I would be in 5 months, but that silly little detail didn’t matter to you. You wanted every second, every moment, every sunny, bright, shiny happy go lucky day that you could steal with me, and boy did that feel good.

Because it does.

It feels good when someone wants you so openly, so honestly, with no apologies. No excuses. No cellophane between us when you look into my eyes.

I met you –

And the world…

changed.

It was like my life was a snow globe, sitting on the corner of some dusty shelf, nothing special, nothing noticed, and then BAM this little stupid kid comes up and grabs it and shakes it around and flips it upside down, only to discover that it’s not only a snow globe, but it’s ALSO one of those little wind up thingies that makes the globe play music!!! And it wasn’t actually a snow globe at all, but a glitter globe. And all of this sparkly shiny shit started swirling around, and this really beautiful delicate music was playing, and the kid’s eyes got all big and full of wonder, and it was basically just a really gorgeous moment of this kid’s childhood that the kid will never forget… (I don’t know if this metaphor works, either, because I don’t know who the kid represents, exactly, but that’s what it felt like when I met you… Sort of.)

I met you-

And a giant crumb or something nasty found its way under my space bar, making it increasingly difficult to press down on the right side of the key, and stupid little things like that usually make me legitimately angry, but now… I just press harder and laugh at how I used to let that stupid stuff get to me.

I met you-

And we text in ongoing metaphors.
With correct spelling.
With correct punctuation.
With correct forms of “their” and “they’re” and “there” and “its” and “it’s” and “your” and “you’re” and “to” and “too” and “two”
and that turns me on
and I’m sorry I’m not sorry about it.

And yet-

I met you-

And I suddenly realized all of the things that are wrong with me.
Like how psychotic I can be.
How damaged I really am.
How bad he hurt me.
How badly I must of hurt him.
How much work I have to do on myself.
How self conscious I can become,
and how selfish I have become,
and how I need to start being who I want to become.

I met you-

And I couldn’t possibly be this happy, so I have to find reasons and excuses and things that make me second guess everything.

I met you-

And I don’t want to move away,
but I do want to run screaming from this room, from your car, from your hands because NO.
Just… no.
You aren’t real.
People don’t do and say the things you do and actually mean them.
You are from a movie.
And seeing as my life is not a movie…
“Security! This guy’s gots to go!”

And if you are not real, neither is what I am feeling.
I am leaving,
I am moving,
I am young,
I am starting over,
I am alone
I am alone
I want to be alone
So leave me alone because this…

This is too much.
Two months too much.
And I know distance is hard.
Distance is really, really hard.
For me, especially.
But see?

I met you-

And now that song from Hercules is playing in my head,
“I CAN GO THE DISTANCE!”
And I know you’d laugh at my thought process just then and love me even more because of it.
And I really am crazy.
I’m learning that I’m crazy.

And right about now would be the time that you would take me in your arms,
And say something like, “Well, I’m crazy, too.”
And I’d look up at you, smiling, knowing what’s coming-
“Crazy about you.”
And I’d hate to smile because it’s so predictable and corny but sure enough!
There are my teeth all in their snaggley-ass row, beaming at you.

I met you-

And no matter what happens now, I wouldn’t take it back.

I met you-

And it feels right to be so confused,
so backwards,
so psycho,
so crazy,
so forward,
so warm,
so smiley,
so jumpy,
so nervous,
so hazy
so lazy
so icky
so sticky,
so misty,
so gooey,
so prickly,
so tickley,
so flighty
so flappy
so hesitant
so happy
Because you know what?

I think this could be worth it.
And maybe it’s not even worth an “it.”
Maybe it’s just worth “something.”
But

I met you-

And now, I know:
I want to meet that something, too.

 

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