The longest I’ve loved someone is 5,035 days,
yet the moment I met you it felt like I’d been agape far longer.
You captivate my attention for what feels an eternity.
I might look away,
but I’m scared a freckle or a mole will be gone when I look again.
I’m being held hostage with unlocked handcuffs.
Your bow to my violin has been snapped
and yet somehow – somehow – you still play it so beautifully.
It hurts, it really does.
But for you to stop playing would be like a never-ending calendar meeting its end,
unfathomable.
My pain is purely for the sake of your entertainment.
Does it feel good?
Does it feel refreshing to watch my emotions play on my face cinematically?
I hope it does.
For despite my hurt, my heart is yours, and only yours.
And I can only dream of that reciprocation.
I can only dream of your heart lay as openly as mine.
Although the longest I’ve loved someone was before knowing you,
it feels I’ve loved you for more than I can remember.
