I don’t love him but he’s here and you aren’t.>
One of my favorite versions of you is the one I wake up next to, while you’re still sleeping soundly. You look so childlike - peaceful, calm, and innocent. You float along, your troubles far away. And I love your thick, messy hair, and the relaxed arch of your eyebrows. I love your slightly opened mouth, with those soft, rarely smirkless, baby lips. And your dark silk lashes - intertwined ribbons loosely wound around closed eyes. And your skin is softer than ever, without tensed up muscles underneath.
There’s something so especially charming about the vulnerability that comes with the way you sleep. It is a time where neither your muscles nor your wit matter, for no amount of strength or smarts can hide who you really are. And for just a few moments, you are weightless. You control nothing - not your subconscious thoughts, your movements, or the look on your face. And sometimes, I bury my fingers in your hair, and you smile. And sometimes, I push my body against yours, and you squeeze. And I don’t take this to mean that you love me, but simply that you’re happy. And even though all of the weight and worries of the world might come back to you once you wake, if I can watch you sleep so soundly, I can confidently believe that you’ll be okay.
You ruined me and I apologized.>