“Any idea when you want to make it official?”-
You’d asked,
And I told you I just needed a little more time.
Because how am I supposed to explain that we are dating but I’m in denial about it?
My heart still aches for someone I gave the gentlest parts of me to-
He left anyways.
And it wasn’t my fault;
Trauma alters the brain and I alone wasn’t enough to pick him up off of the pavement.
I could only sob beside him for so long before I found myself wanting to stay there, too.
My fingertips ache to touch the softness of his curls still;
His footsteps still echo in my living room as if his legs had brought him back through my front door,
I stare at my phone in a daze at night and wish they had.
I have no idea how to navigate the grief of a man who taught me that strength and softness can be one and the same.
“Any idea when you want to make it official?”-You’d asked,
And when I answered you told me you understood.
You refuse to push through a door that I still wait at for someone else-
While I’m trying to learn how to open it for you.
I think loving you means finally accepting that he isn’t the one knocking.
