An electric touch

I think maybe you tapped me on the shoulder once, years ago. it was electric, even without knowing who it was. I turned and you smiled, said “Hey neighbor.” I was already taken by you… standing at the top of that cliff, but hadn't fallen off it yet. But that smile… that playful tone in your voice (that's just you, though, isn't it? You're always so playful…). I don't know if I took a step closer, or if the cliff edge started to crumble, but the fall became that much more inevitable.

Before then, I had always been pretty indifferent to taking the boy to scouts… After, it became one of my favorite things. You weren't always there, often it was him instead. But when you were, we could chat. If you really look at the thing, we've had so very few conversations, you and I. But every one of them is precious to me, even the ones before I fell.

(yeah, I know there was that one time I bored you to tears with my ever-so-important opinions on the DC superhero movies… I haven't forgotten, but I hope you have… Even back then, I was already just trying to untie my tongue, it's some kind of miracle intelligible words were coming out of my mouth at all…)

Then the fall came. The fall of Rome. The fall of civilization as we know it. I don't even know how it happened, but I stepped right off that cliff. I think… I did it willfully, with a purpose. I knew I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't have. But I don't know if I really had a choice. I might have even already been out over the open air, like Wile E. Coyote, not yet realizing the ground was no longer below my feet. But gravity is inevitable, nonnegotiable. And the ground is still nowhere in sight.

I know what the right thing to do is, but I can't. I want to feel that electric buzz of your finger on my shoulder again. I want to be selfish. I want to feel your hand cupping my cheek as we stare into each other's eyes. I want so many more chats, a lifetime of them. I want your playful banter in my life every single day, not just during those rare chance encounters. I want to hold you when you've had a bad day. I want to fight with you, then make up, for the lessons it teaches both of us. I want to… tell my mom about you. I want to know if you really are as cheesy as I am, or if that's just more projection. I want to know what you're like when you've had a bit too much to drink. I want to take care of you the next morning, even if that means just bringing you a cup of water then leaving you alone for a few hours. I want… so many things.

But mostly, I want to make you feel loved. Because you are.