We Would

Tear it Apart

If we were together,

I’d wake up at noon with you by my side. Maybe you’d be awake. Maybe not. I don’t know you that well, yet. I would smile at the fact that you’re there and do anything physically possible to get closer to you, to feel the heat of your body (because you’d be mine). By then, you would notice that I had woken up. But you wouldn’t care.

I would want to stay there forever. I’d try to, until you’d force me out of bed. You’d have to coax me out of bed with a kiss. A promise for a good day. Whatever I would want to hear that day.

If we were together,

I’d lounge around our dainty apartment with your clothes on. When you’re there, when you’re not; it wouldn’t matter. Perhaps we would watch sports if we had nothing to do. I’d convince you to watch a soccer game with me on our small sofa, ignoring every stupid comment you’d make at the game and its players (because we both know you don’t hate the sport as much as you claim you do). Then maybe we’d watch a game of basketball that I wouldn’t understand. But I reckon we’d just spend our day musing aloud our thoughts that followed us from our childhood.

“I’d hate to go to India,”


“England seems pretty nice,”

“I don’t want to go there,”

“Me neither,”

Traveling would be unnecessary, though. I’d be happy wherever I am as long as you’d be there.

If we were together,

I’d comply to every request that you’d make. I’d try to exceed any of your sexual needs. For the sake of feeling you there with me. To keep you here with me (because I know you’d leave me if I did not). I’d hope you’d do the same for me, but wouldn’t mind if you didn’t. You’d be there with me. Spending your time with me. I wouldn’t dare to ask for more.

If we were together,

Seeing our friends wouldn’t matter a bit to us. We’d probably see them occasionally, concentrating on each other more than them. I’d hide my jealousy whenever you’d talk to another person suggestively, but you wouldn’t mind putting your arm around me whenever I did the same thing. My friends would tell me I need to break up with you. I’d never talk to them again.

If we were together,

You’d eventually get fed up with me. I know it. You’re everything and I’m nothing. You’d try to convince yourself that we can make it, even though you shouldn’t (because I didn’t believe it from the start). And you’d leave. You’d let us die in an instant, or in a few weeks after realising that we’re dysfunctional. The pain wouldn’t differ from either instance.

And I would have nothing. Because you were it. What would I do without you then? Maybe I’d try to get with you again. Maybe I’d drift into obscurity with the recollections of our time together still fresh on my mind.
♠ ♠ ♠
PSA: If you haven't listened to Forever Halloween by the Maine yet, go do it.