Once in Venice

one of my favourite memories of you was when we weren't even together. i was gallivanting my way through europe with my best friends and you were waiting patiently in my home country and your adopted one for my return. those few weeks were tough going to all those places without you. i knew what you'd love and find annoying about the whole process so it was like you were there with me. i also knew that you would have made it a thousand times better, well at least for me.

 

but anyways, i remember as i sat in a restaurant in the middle of a Venetian square eating octopus salad, you messaged me about this or that. we talked for a bit then you asked me to call you if i could because you knew how expensive it was. i don't think i had talked to you on the phone more than a handful of times, but i hadn't heard your voice in so long. i had been craving it and while everyone was wondering around after dinner i escaped down a alleyway to call you.

the phone call wasn't very long. we said hi to each other, asked about each others days and i probably rambled about something. and you probably definitely let me. it was so nice to be in this place, most likely where we'll never be together and be with you in a way. we had had better conversations, and we would have more meaningful goodbyes, but that one phone call solidified something. it cemented the idea that i was yours and you were mine and this was the case despite the length of time allotted to us.

Thinking and Wanting

All I do, is think of you. 

I went across an ocean, and thought of you.

I saw Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower and The Red Light District, and thought of you.

I lit a bowl, and thought of you. 

I ate a hamburger, and thought of you. 

I heard a song, and thought of you. 

I heard another song, and thought of you. 

And another. 

I saw a commercial, and thought of you. 

I laid in bed, and thought of you. 

All I ever do is think of you, because all I want is to be with you.