Thoughts:
I can’t stand another moment without her. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. Too late to call her I wrote letter after letter, never saying what I wanted to say, never managing to say anything that meant more than “I love the way sunlight catches the peachfuzz of your lower back. I adore your nose. I want to be closer. Sit next to me and let me feel your warmth against my skin, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the weight of your shoulder against mine, the rustle of your fingers in the pages of your book, let me watch the corners of your mouth (where I’d love to plant a kiss) quirk and smile and frown as your thoughts drift across your face, let us be lost together in sweet midnight couplings, dawn snuggles, morning teas and coffees, lunchtime domesticities…”

“Let me…” “Let me…”

An invocation not to her but to the universe to let me, to close the gap, to make the clock, the calendar… geography itself rend time and space to bring me there or her here. And how can I say it when I haven’t the words, the experience, the familiarity, the words, the words, the words.

Words:
“So, what are you doing Saturday after practice?”
“I don’t really know. There’s some stuff I need to do before but hadn’t made plans for after.”
“I was thinking of cooking something simple, Chinese or Italian… pasta and veggies anyway, and taking a walk downtown. Wanna come, I’ll make extra?”
“Yeah, that’d be cool. What time?”
“How about twenty till?”
“See you then.”

Deeds:
Dialing the phone
Opening our mouths
Being there

—-

It took me so long to learn that wishing, and words, and deeds works even better than wishing alone, no matter how fevered. :-)