The night brings only crickets to interrupt it’s silence. Of course, there is me and you, together, making the rocks turn beneath our feet. We hold each others hands without actually holding them and we tell each other how we feel without speaking a word. We’ve always done this. For most people, I guess it wouldn’t make any sense. How can I feel the softness of your touch and hear the comforting words from your mouth if you do not move a muscle? We never made much sense anyway.
Honestly, nothing between us has ever transitioned smoothly. I often think about how much of an immature asshole you are and you always tell me how much of a bitch I am. Regardless of our heated arguments about you running around and about me always being so confusing, we both never lost interest in each other. Would this interest fade if we were ever truly together? Time and time again, I think out loud “Is a bigger mistake to never try or would trying be the biggest mistake of all?”
But right now, walking next to you, I’m convinced that we were never meant to make any sense. We were never made to always agree on everything. Maybe I deserve to be called a bitch, when I am one. Maybe you need to hear how much of an asshole you can be, so you can stop it. I realize that the perfect relationship, whether official or unofficial, does not mean we have to understand everything. We don’t even have to fully understand each other. In the most imperfectly perfect relationship, we just have to feel.
And oh, how I feel for you.