What I didn't tell him
was about the butterflies that fluttered
all the way to my toes and my fingertips
anytime we would breathe the same air.
I didn't tell him
about how I admired the peaceful and poetic way
his breath moved his chest when he slept
and how when he looked at me I could see the future.
What I didn't tell him
was that I still think about him every day
when I walk up the stairs,
or lay in a park,
or drive,
when my hands gently turn the steering wheel from underneath
just like how he told me not to,
or how when I kiss someone else somehow I feel his lips on mine,
how when I close my eyes I can imagine
the warmth he brings just by simply touching my skin.
What I didn't tell him
was that I didn't forget the beautiful moments
and that I'm sorry for making him think that I did.
I didn't tell him
that the feelings I have for him are
irreplaceable
and don't quite know how to fade.
What I didn't tell him
is that I can remember how
our bodies curved together to sleep in our small twin beds.
I didn't tell him
that by memory I could trace my finger on a blank canvas
in the shape of his lips, or his nose,
or each eyelash that curled off his eyelid.
I didn't tell him
that I remember how his skin feels
and how we would sink into each other.
What I didn't tell him
is how much I appreciate how he chuckles
when I tell him the most frustrating things about him,
or how we could laugh and be silly,
or how we could be open and cry.
I didn't tell him
how safe he makes me feel
when he towers over me and devours me in a hug.
What I didn't tell him
is that the way I feel about him has no explanation.
He asked me, "Why are you okay with keeping me in your life?"
What I didn't tell him
is that I don't know,
but I think that's okay.
Maybe the answer is only defined with something
bigger than words,
deeper and more eloquent than words.
I didn't tell him
that hopefully he would feel the answer if he kissed me again.
We have a connection that drips with honey —
a little bit of a mess but..
sweet,
self-preserving.
What I didn't tell him
is that on nights like this
when a chill lingers in the air
and every star is out in the sky
all I can think about is how we shine together —
bright as hell.
