Tell Me It Isn’t True

You came knocking on the door. I was already in my pjs, it had been a long day. My eyes were tired, teary and red. I let you come in, and you stood close to me while I shut the door. I turned to go put something else on, but you grabbed me by the waist. I had nowhere to put my arms except wrapped around your neck. You said to me, “I could get used to this.”

All I thought to do was sigh. But before I knew it, we were entwined, all of our hopes, desires, and wishes presented clearly for each of us to see, feel and twirl around. You were warm, the house was cool, too cool. I suddenly didn’t want to let go, relief and despair flooded over me, giving way to hope and desire.

We stood there for what felt like the longest time, but was only minutes. I wanted to whisper, “hold me,” but it wouldn’t come out. You muttered, “I’m sorry,” but it sounded forlorn, like you meant it in a different time and a different place and for a different reason.

I smiled as we parted, an invitation or a goodbye gift, I couldn’t yet tell. “I shouldn’t have come,” you said, too softly for your nature. I wanted to scream, but instead I shook my head in agreement. My thoughts were racing, too fast now for me to make sense of them. The tears threatened again.

Your eyes darted around my face. I could tell you knew what was happening, but you didn’t want to recognize it. When there was no mistake, your face softened. “Oh, don’t cry,” you begged and went to hold me again. I tried to stop you this time, but I couldn’t fight it.

In your arms once again, I whispered what I’d wanted to say since first meeting you. Those three little words that conveyed so much, and yet begged for more. You leaned back slightly, a gleam in your eye.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” you said, but you were breathless. And I knew I had you then, all of you, more than I ever thought possible.

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