One Day

I want to believe you. I want the words 'I'm ready' to be true. You call me your small spoon because I can't sleep without your arms around me. I weigh the outcomes if I give you a second chance. The first thing that surfaces from memory is the spot on my shoulder that you always used to kiss when we collapsed out of breath from making love in the middle of the night. Sometimes I touch this spot and close my eyes to help me remember your smell, your mouth, to help me remember you. You tell me you have changed, that you're done pushing me away, that you finally grieved the death of your mom. You tell me you miss watching me brush my teeth. I laugh, tears pooling in my eyes, and realize I miss you too. I remember telling you to let me in, and you stood there with your arms crossed, face un-telling of any emotion, the words 'one day' making my heart sink. Now it's one day, and I don't know if it's too late for us. I love you. But I don't know if 'one day' is enough. My dad once told me to 'try, try, try, and when the other person quits trying, you try for the both of you, and when you've exhausted all the try you have in you thats when you leave.'

Not ready for one day, but not ready to quit trying. Not ready to leave. I love you too much Leo.