leitmotif.
it's 2:03am.
my pants are back on
though a little bit of my zipper is still undone
and the button really isn't on all the way.
but that's regardless.
we're lying together on the cramped couch.
it really wasn't designed for more than one person
but that doesn't make a difference.
he's on the bottom,
his head relaxing against the pillows and blankets
on the arm of the chair.
my legs are tangled with his,
my arms are wrapped all around him,
and my head is pressed against his chest.
my motif.
but there's no rain this time.
all is quiet
in the middle of the night.
without him asking, i reply,
"i'm listening to the tune of your heartbeat."
he smiles.
"it's like a metronome," i continue.
"jerome, jerome, the metronome," he says,
laughing.
"even though my name's not jerome.
i just wanted to make a gattaca joke."
i smile widely.
i understand his humor.
we lay there for a while.
the minutes tick by like grains of sand in an hourglass.
i could stay up all night with him.
or i could fall asleep with him.
but both of these things can't come true.
i'm still sixteen
and my parents,
despite how amazing they are to let me have
my boyfriend around this late,
still kind of suck.
meaningless little chatter pervades the air.
except, it's not really meaningless.
i take my sweatshirt off,
and reveal the t-shirt underneath.
"you wore that shirt in the poconos," he says.
(the week that he had "asked me out",
i invited him to the poconos to a family barbecue.
it was a fun time.)
"tell me," he continues,
"did you ever think when you wore it
that my hands would be underneath your shirt?"
i reply, "no."
because, honestly, i never thought we'd ever be here.
i had always thought he would be just a summer fling.
that i'd just be
a girl to have fun with before he went off to college.
i never thought that we'd be laying here
at 2:12am
over our thanksgiving break.
i never thought he'd come down every weekend to see me.
i never thought he'd be the one to hold my heart.
and i wouldn't want to be anywhere else
but here.
my pants are back on
though a little bit of my zipper is still undone
and the button really isn't on all the way.
but that's regardless.
we're lying together on the cramped couch.
it really wasn't designed for more than one person
but that doesn't make a difference.
he's on the bottom,
his head relaxing against the pillows and blankets
on the arm of the chair.
my legs are tangled with his,
my arms are wrapped all around him,
and my head is pressed against his chest.
my motif.
but there's no rain this time.
all is quiet
in the middle of the night.
without him asking, i reply,
"i'm listening to the tune of your heartbeat."
he smiles.
"it's like a metronome," i continue.
"jerome, jerome, the metronome," he says,
laughing.
"even though my name's not jerome.
i just wanted to make a gattaca joke."
i smile widely.
i understand his humor.
we lay there for a while.
the minutes tick by like grains of sand in an hourglass.
i could stay up all night with him.
or i could fall asleep with him.
but both of these things can't come true.
i'm still sixteen
and my parents,
despite how amazing they are to let me have
my boyfriend around this late,
still kind of suck.
meaningless little chatter pervades the air.
except, it's not really meaningless.
i take my sweatshirt off,
and reveal the t-shirt underneath.
"you wore that shirt in the poconos," he says.
(the week that he had "asked me out",
i invited him to the poconos to a family barbecue.
it was a fun time.)
"tell me," he continues,
"did you ever think when you wore it
that my hands would be underneath your shirt?"
i reply, "no."
because, honestly, i never thought we'd ever be here.
i had always thought he would be just a summer fling.
that i'd just be
a girl to have fun with before he went off to college.
i never thought that we'd be laying here
at 2:12am
over our thanksgiving break.
i never thought he'd come down every weekend to see me.
i never thought he'd be the one to hold my heart.
and i wouldn't want to be anywhere else
but here.