Tangled thread

We’ve known each other three years. Three years of video game chats, curse words, and rolling dice. I fell in love with you even more during lockdown. I don’t know if you know, and if you do thank you for being polite.

You and one of my best friends were the last faces I saw before it all went downhill. I remember laughing in the bar, I remember my hand on your back, and even the cute girl you saw (even if it stung just a little.) I remember sitting in a car heading back to where I was staying and looking down at my friend as she rested her head on my shoulder telling her miserably “I like him so much.”

It all went to shit, when it all locked down our digital friendships became so valuable. And it became a comfort in a time that was littered with uncomfortable growing pains for me..

And how wonderful getting to know you is. Learning about your family during long conversations over the clatter of keyboards, hearing your laugh that is wildly contagious, and the kindness that you show despite claiming toughness. Seeing your face when it lights up or the long lived exhaustion when we all collectively turn into chaotic children and you have to wrangle us.

Or how your creativity dazzles me endlessly. How everything you create I want to hold so close to my chest because it makes me feel so much. And amazes me endlessly.

I don’t think any of these words will leave my mouth. I’m too afraid of them. Too afraid of the incapabilities in my social manner and all the things I have to work on. I won’t be that girl. I’m not good at delicate or dainty? I’m a mess, tangled thread and sharp needles. Tears and bursts of over sharing out of loneliness or a desire to be understood. 

I think I’ll be afraid when it’s over that you will drift so far away, that we all will. And I’ll be alone.

But for now, I’ll be in love. I’ll try to be quiet, and I’ll marvel at how wonderful just being able to know you is.

Thank you for being gracious, and so cool. For letting me have at least a little bit of you for a while.