I Would Rather Be In Bed

Don’t think with your heart, they tell me, you’ll just end up getting hurt.

How, I wonder, am I to think with anything else?

What sense is there to be made of the way your hand fits into mine? How am I to make sense of the way your eyes catch mine and I try so hard not to look away but my heart races and my throat gets tight and I have to blink to save my own life? I want to know how you intend to tell me to use my brain when your lips and mine fit together so perfectly.

Some matters are left to the mind. And some, oh some, are meant to be felt.

The way you smile the instant you see my face, when your hands are drawn toward me despite any conscious effort to keep them busy on another task, or even perhaps the moment your fingers brush my neck as you lean in are all things that are meant to be felt. Those are moments meant to make your heart beat, your breath catch, your mind forget its cares…

There is no thinking.

There is only heart.

I only know that the way you smell is my favorite smell. I only know that your heartbeat is my favorite sound. I only know that your eyes are my favorite thing to see. I only know that your arms are my favorite to feel around me. I only know that the way your heart holds mine is the surest and most perfect thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I only know that this…this…was never something I had a choice in. My heart thought the moment I looked at you and it decided long before I had time to reconsider.

I’ve never wanted to decide on a different path. My heart knew when it picked you.

Devastate me if you must. What a beautiful tragedy you would be worth, if only to feel your heart tangled with mine for even one day.