Dream kisses

Babe your kisses are keeping me up. You are 206 miles away (I checked) and all I can think about is the feeling of your lips brushing both my cheeks and then landing on my forehead, butterfly fast and so cherished. Had you ever kissed me that way before? I can’t remember, but I don’t think so. I close my eyes and all of a sudden you’re standing in front of me again, down a long line of friends and family and you’re eyes are on mine, pulling me towards you with the magnetism I’ve never been able to avoid-
No. Stop. I cannot follow that dream to its conclusion because if I do and it doesn’t come true, I may never pick up the pieces. It’s a survival habit to stop that one.
Toss and turn and try to turn my thoughts back to your kisses.
Kisses that trail down me and taste like red wine and whiskey, terrible idea to mix them on an empty stomach but we have and now I can feel the water and the wine caress my skin and you following after.
Is this what I imagined?
Yes and no. My imagination couldn’t go beyond the cramped and dirty communal shower stalls, the white curtains stained with who knows how many years of detritus. Hairs stuck to the walls from the girls who haven’t yet figured out how to clean up after themselves, squeaky flip flops that you have to grip with your toes in order to keep your feet from touching the stall floor.
And yet, in my minds eye you did kiss me. You kissed me and loved me and maybe that is true now. It is true now. If I am to move forward, I’ve got to believe what you say. And you do say it.
I wonder if you know how many creative ways I kept from telling you that I loved you, once. All the times I told you “I feel for you hard... head over heels... infatuated, intoxicated...” what I meant was love. Simple, as pure as my heart could be- I gave it to you. Before I ever broke. When I still believed in white dresses and Jane Austen hero’s. I thought you were Wickham, but maybe you have been Henry Tilney all along. Teasing, I never know when you’re being serious- with dreams and ambitions and the ability to realize them.
Let me be a part of your dreams, love. Let me be your Catherine. Awkward maybe, endearingly so. But trusting. Loving by wholes and not halves.
When all is said and done, I wasn’t ready for you before. Yes. You intoxicated me. I thought you were worldly and sweet- but it never would have worked. I didn’t know me yet. I’m still working it out. But- if I have children it will be with you. Only with you. Before,  that was all theory, but now- I want reality with all its sharp edges and hard work. I want to chase waterfalls and clean up messes with you. I want the white dress. I want the picket fence. Enough to give up my life’s work? Maybe. Probably.
I don’t want to be your almost lover. I want to be your forever.
I can’t believe this is real. But it is, somehow.
Maybe I’ll close my eyes and go back to your kisses and that long walk down the aisle. Maybe this time I’ll let myself keep walking to see what happens.