i want i want i want

I want a make out session so long that by the end of it my lips are red and swollen from kissing down the scruff on his chin to his collarbones. I want love bites on my chest and our clothes to stay on. I want him to tell me that he loves me in a gentle whisper as he kisses my ear and laces his fingers between mine. I want to think that it’s love and it will last forever.

I am so in love with you.

I want him to be mine and there be no question whether or not it’s true. I want to be his and I want him to proclaim it as such—even if only for a year, I don’t care. I want to be owned. I want to be possessed. I want to be someone’s something even if it’s not for forever. I want there to be no confusion about whether he can properly be considered an ex-boyfriend or not.

A man that I dated or just a man that I went on a few dates with?

I want to be a pair, an item, or a packaged deal—as unhealthy as that sounds. I want to be his plus one to his best friend’s wedding. I want his friends to be my friends and I want my friends to be his friends. I want his friends to be friends with my friends and I want my friends to be friends with his friends. I want to be in pictures with him and be entangled so deeply into his life that no one would have ever thought that I wasn’t there since the day he was born.

I was wondering when you two were going to get here!

I want him to meet my family and when we break up I want them to ask what went wrong and for them to tell me that they didn’t like him anyway—even though it’s a lie. I want them to see that I’m finally happy with someone for the first time in a long time and then be heartbroken, themselves, when it doesn’t work out.

He wasn’t right for you anyway. You’ll find someone better…

I want us to plan a future together because, at the time, it will all seem that it will last forever. I want us to talk about kids and what kind of school we will send them to. I want us to lightly lay down a tablecloth for our future and begin picking out the place settings.

Your religion or mine? What side of the family will we spend Christmas with?

I want our breakup to be sudden and drastic. I want it to be a knife to both of our stomachs. I want to slowly bleed out with you. I want to go to bed one day completely in love with you and wake up the next day, still very much in love, but knowing that we won’t work, knowing that we are both slowly dragging a blade across each other's stomach and we won’t stop until we call it done.

I love you, I’m sorry.

I want to pass you on the street and for the invisible wound to pulse with the beating of my heart. I want my pulse to quicken as I notice that you cut your hair and shaved your beard and are holding that hand of someone new. I want to stop and ask you how you are—but I won’t and instead call my friends about you.

You’ll never guess who I saw in town today…

I want

I want

I want

love…

or a make out session. Either will do.

_______

Authors note: This was very very fun to write because it was just kind of like word vomit that I molded into a neat pile and then stuck a daisy in. I'm not sure if it's perfect or grammatically correct in parts, but I have to just publish it so I stop looking at it. If I stare at it anymore, I might ruin it by making a bunch of changes.

Also notice how in the first few paragraphs the narrator was using "him" but then switched to "you" in the later paragraphs... this was by accident. Complete accident because I am a shite writer sometimes and was typing as fast as my little fat fingers could. I was also three Coors Lights in. I decided to keep it because I thought that it added a nice touch. (A happy little drunk accident unlike when I text an ex boyfriend) The narrator starts by talking about this imaginary man, but then is eventually just talking about a very specific man.

How interesting. Quite scholarly. Tea and crumpets and fine literature. (This is all sarcasm. I just wrote this about some white dude who doesn't want to date me lol)