The soft glow of my phone illuminates my dark room, reaching under the blanket I turn up the volume of my ipod. Then turning slightly I fumble to type in the nine letter pass code to unlock my phone. A smile slowly beings to unfold on my face as I type a witty reply. Silently I lay listening to the soft music filter through my heads. Tonight however like so many before them are spent in a nervous panic waiting for my phone to vibrate again with his response. How silly is this all that just reading his written words makes my body tense up as if a heard of wild elephants were stampeding through it? What could this new found emotion be.. In all truth it frightens me more than wishing desperately to be called his. Or revisiting the last time I was able to gently kiss his lips.
However the feeling goes beyond the physical sensation , for it isn’t at seven o’clock I wake in the morning to enjoy but rather the hope that he will send me a text vividly describing his dreams of the night before and relaying with great insight the secret meaning in which he feels it posses. But even this does not begin to explain the magnitude; for it was his mind in which I was drawn to first, it was his mind in which I spent countless hours talking with about the universe. However ever since that kiss I cannot help but feel at one with life, for I have come to realize I miss him terrible …