Fearless

I look at the moon differently now.

That’s a thing.

I used to just glance at it, only noticing it if it was full or in that weird big yellow harvest stage.

But now I just stare at it for hours. Even when it’s a small insignificant sliver in the sky barely emitting any light.

I guess I just wonder if you see it too, from wherever you are.

As if in that moment that I’m looking at it, you are too. And maybe we’re together for that  one instant. 

I know it’s stupid.

I know it’s irrational and exaggerated and overly romanticized.

But that’s how I am now. Is this what they say love does to you?

I cry in movies now.

That was never a thing.

I used to enjoy love stories and envy them, maybe feel sad for the characters sometimes.

Now I practically live through them,

As if everything they’re going through is my problem, my life, and I have to cry about it.

I bump into things a lot now.

I guess my mind is always somewhere else, somewhere with you.

My mind is weeks ahead, to when I’m with you again, falling asleep next to you, giggling when you call me beautiful.

Those thoughts are worth the bruises.

I find myself caring more about myself now.

You give me a reasons to appreciate myself, since someone as awesome as you has decided to spend so much time with me and even find me kind of awesome.

As weird as it sounds, it feels like my heart permanently beats a little faster now.

I’m always in this antsy high where I wait for your texts, and then get so giddy when I see your name on my phone. It gets worse when I see you’re calling me and I’m about to hear your voice.

Are you listening to this? I’m a wreck.

I’m a nervous, antsy, emotional, overly-romanticizing, ooey gooey, giddy wreck.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.