Too Many Maybe's

2015

Once, you wrote your name across my chest with the tip of your finger. Like a secret just for me spelt out in invisible ink. I belonged to you. It did not need to be spoken out loud. It was right there on my skin. I felt the trace of your touch burning on me like a new tattoo. You'd branded me and it spoke louder than words. You did it in a thoughtless moment. With no commonsense restriction. You did it because you knew. Despite everything, all the secrets and mistakes. All the miscommunications.

I was yours.

And you were mine. After years of just being we had gotten so used to living in Wonderland, it felt like the only home we'd known. And we completely forgot the upside-downness of things. For a good while, we were practically normal.

We went out with our friends for dinners and drinks. We saw art exhibits and movies. Hiding of course in plain sight, waiting still, for stolen moments. A quick unguarded smile or gentle touch in the passing when nobody seemed to notice. There is a certain thrill to it. Having a shared secret from the rest of the world. Something belonging just to you and me. Even if it makes things a little more difficult or complicated. We found ways around it.

Like the many times, I brought you coffee at work. It was just a silly excuse really. To see you. If I had a bad day or rough week. I knew you were working every Tuesday, in the little game shop in the town centre about 1,5 miles from campus. It was such a charming shop. Two stories of nerdiness, the ground floor filled with sections of comic books and the basement full of games and figures. And it was right by the station. So, it was an easy little detour to make on my way to the gym or my parent's house. I'd get us both a coffee and bring it by because I knew it would seem silly if I just walked in to say hi. Though, bringing you coffee all time might have seemed silly too. Your friends must have thought I was crushing badly on you. I also told you the coffee was a bribe for a ride home in the evening. 1,5 miles can be a long and lonely walk in the dark of night. Still, that was mostly also an excuse to see you more.

Because it helped. On the hard days. Just seeing you. Feeling you would have helped more of course. But you never drove home alone after work. At least not the times I got a ride. Thomas or Linda or some other friends were always with you. Otherwise, I would have guided you to some secluded spot and taken advantage of the moment. Still, seeing you was enough. Knowing I made your day a little better with something as simple as coffee, was enough. Though your coffee wasn't really simple, you hated the taste of it, so I always had to get you something disguised as coffee. Like that Tiramisu latté or Chocolate Orange Frappuccino you loved. I used to dress up for it too. Wear something a little nicer than I otherwise would have. And then, the morning after you'd text me and compliment me on my checked mini skirt or ripped jeans. Sometimes if I looked tired, you'd notice that too and write to ask about it. Nothing ever escaped your attention. And though we never got to talk much during those coffee drop-offs or lifts home, being just brief unprotected moments, they still meant so much to me.

Any moment with you did.

And though I loved being out in the world with you, I still preferred our bubble, where I could safely crawl into your body. Because your strong chest felt more like home to me than my own bedroom pillow. And I wanted nothing more than to spend eternity nestled into you. It was the safest place I knew.

See, I still thought the world a very terrifying place. But the one thing I always feared the most was myself. My own demons. Only, your gentle hands burned on my skin with such care every monster inside me ran and hid, like lions scared of fire. Moving my body like a tide on a full moon. I crashed on your shores time and time again.

Because you were in me like water. You fell around me like rain, steadying the wild beating of my heart with songs in my mind like the ocean in a seashell.