day two hundred and eighty-nine
i had another dream about you last night.
- it was a lot like the rest.
i wanted to hold your hand, but i was holding someone else’s
and instead of looking at him, i couldn’t stop looking at you.
he didn’t notice
but you did.
i let go
and i touched your hand
we lingered there for a moment
and my heart began to ache.
i am sitting here writing this
and i want to cry because
your hand felt exactly the way i remembered it
- rough and warm
- ridiculously, stupidly, amazingly big
- calloused, strong
- and mine.
but it wasn’t mine, not really.
because the touch
while seeming to last for eternity
truly only lasted a single moment.
and then you walked away.
and it felt like my fault.
(which, according to my subconscious, it is.)
i know this one is just like the rest
a tally on the wall
a penny in the jar
a drop in the ocean
why does my heart still ache?