A plan. A longing. Terrible, terrible longing.
These blisters. My bruises and these insect bites from waiting at the terminal (I said I'm not afraid of what I can't see, but what about hearing from him what I already know?)
Wounds that need to go away because how can I run with him if my feet hurt? And when we go into the middle of the sea, what if I drown and go unnoticed? (So what if I drown? If that means getting held by him, I'd risk losing a few breaths and gulping some of the salt water.)
But what if he forgets about me?
I dreamed of him a few times before seeing him again after three restless weeks. At once, I was reckless and unafraid. I knew exactly what I was saying. I'd give my soul to hold him for a couple hours, to touch his face and gaze at those eyes. I don't need anything else.
Regardless if these thoughts go unrequited, I'm not afraid of running recklessly. There's no stopping me from jumping and diving in despite not knowing what awaits me at the deep end.
I'm not afraid of slipping, falling and getting all bruised. I'm not scared of him hurting me because I know he will. But just as I choose to love quietly, I will also embrace pain in peace. I won't ask, I won't grumble. All I want is for him to allow me.
I got blisters from running in unfamiliar shoes. I don't mind getting more cuts and bruises from running towards a familiar trouble.