I know my being happy is an anomaly. No one knows me better than you. But I can say without avoiding your gaze, without crossing my fingers behind my back; or the other things I do when speaking untruthfully—I am happy. I know the rain does not discriminate between day or night and either will hold its own light and dark—but now, at this very moment, I feel like I am the sun. And I know in my heart, I will always look upon this time—not without a sense of melancholy—that it was the happiest in my life.
I want to spend October with you, because it’s
my favorite month and happens during my
favorite season. I wish we could aimlessly
walk around a forest and with each leaf that
falls from the branches above, we fall a little
more for each other too. While hand in hand
we can crave the smell of warm coffee and
cinnamon muffins on a chilly morning, we
could feel the autumn breeze brush against
our skin and the goose bumps we get, we
won’t be able to tell if it’s from touching each
other’s skin or from the wind being too cool.
When we lay in bed you’d have the hardest
time moving an inch away from me, because
I’d want to be skin to skin every minute.
These lonely summer nights without you make
me crave the fall, and crave the season of
death in the hopes that maybe this loneliness
would die too, and you’d appear by my side.
I can’t tell if I love the night too dearly, or
hate it too passionately. I think I’d adore
it if I got to sleep next to you every evening,
and I think that I’d enjoy the sunset more
watching it hit your face than actually
seeing it say goodnight. I just crave to
spend time with you, I do.