Deja Vu

I have to admit, I am a daydreamer. I'm guilty as charged when it comes to building up the short stories of you in my head.

If I'm at Walmart I'll imagine us in years to come doing a typical weekend grocery shop together. If I'm driving I'll picture you in the vacant passenger seat, busting out terrible vocals along with me. If I'm listening to music I'll think about us dancing to it at our wedding day. If I'm watching a movie I'll replace the high paid actors with us because it just seems to fit more with you and I.

These mini stories build up over time as I rethink them over and over again, smiling at the possibilities. But, it's when you do things that I never thought of do I seem to blush the most.

It's when I'm sad and lonely and all I want is to finally confirm with you about this unacknowledged tension, but I'm aware that the inappropriate timing and the lack of clarity will not fulfill the satisfaction that I need. During my lowest thoughts I get a chance to communicate with you. Though the topic is of a professional matter and you're completely ignorant to my current status, it feels such as the angels above did their best to spread their own pixie dust. Almost as if the winds up in the nirvana were tired of seeing me unknowing to the possible mutuality of the affection and had to give me some kind playful hint.

It's when I impulsively go to you for consolation and you always pull through in your own way. We're both not emotional people and we both know how to convey our inner thoughts through unique word choices and actions. But most importantly, I feel we both realize we can read each other's inner turmoil for our lack of emotional integrity. You always seem to know just what to say to get through this thick self critical skull. Just as if we were bound to connect our own linguistics, and fate had fit us into this enigma of attraction. Because I know I don't want anyone else but you to try to talk me down of an emotionally compromising breakdown.

The things you do in reality break me free from the spiraling void of dreams I so desperately swivel down. The more I'm with you do I no longer feel the need to cling to the fictitious tales I play in my head to get through the absence of you. Because if I lacked your presence, I would tumble down the hole of self doubt as I've always battled between reality and my castle in the air.

Just as guilty as I am for dreaming, I'm guilty for loving you. And that made all the difference.