Between You and Me

Between you and me and the Internet, let me just say that I'm scared approximately out of my mind, so I'm not really sure where my mind is going because when I'm thinking I'm thinking down eight different paths, and I can't follow any one of them to their logical conclusion because that's when I realize I don't know.

Anything, really.

So between you and me and the Internet, allow me to say that publishing these fears and emotions across an open forum where anyone who can use Google and knows my name will find it scares me just as much as any one of the pages in my choose-your-own-adventure book.

Between you and me and the Internet, I want to move to the city with you so I can see the skyscrapers in the reflection of your glasses.  I want to find that greasy spoon diner where we can go for breakfast every week and where the coffee tastes like mud, but you drink it anyway, and I make fun of you because tea is so much better.  Or hot chocolate.  I want to curl up on a threadbare couch with barely any cushion to it and sleep curled up in your arms because it's safest there.

Between you and me and the Internet, I want to spend days going through every single one of my Poem-A-Days and tack them all over our walls just so I can see if they'd be good for wallpaper.  I want to read your poetry all the time or at least keep it in my purse for rainy days.  I want to drive you to work and drop you off on the corner and do circles around the block until I need to pick you up again.  I want desperately to make out on public transportation and claim no regrets because I don't think I could ever be ashamed of that.

Between you and me and the Internet, I hate the carpet in your basement, or at least I don't like it as much as you seem to, but I would be willing to sit on that floor if it meant sitting with you.

Between you and me and the Internet, I love you like mad and all it takes is a Facebook post to make it official.

Thank you to Sunday Scribblings for the prompt: Between You and Me.