Sunday, June 3, 2012

Intimate Strangers

We write beautiful words to each other, sometimes whisper them softly and let the tenuous electronic connection between us give it meaning and tonality. Every digitally created alphabet carries weight and an incredible lightness that keeps me intrigued. And somewhere in the midst of the words you say and the ones I hear, you slowly get added to my collection of the best moments I have.

You have no flaws, or atleast, you have no flaws that I can’t overlook. Everything you say – the idiom you use, the exclamations of surprise, even the long silences – all add up to create your perfection. You have humor, courage, a snarkiness that’s surprisingly becoming when it’s not directed at me or anyone I love. You even have a smile that melts the inside of my bones, makes me want to be funny so I see more of it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know the color of your eyes, because I know they smile before your lips know they have to catch up.

You live just far enough away to be anyone I want you to be. You live close enough to be real in a way that few have been before you. I carry you around in my pocket, available at the stroke of a few keys, a quick “Tell me a secret!” or an extended “Tell me your story”. I’m speechless when you agree to both and disappoint on neither.

All these molecules of laughter, a growing trust, an intangible togetherness and you say, “We’re friends” when we could pass each other on the street and not know that the other was within touching distance. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. I won't let it.

So what if you're your best only as a figment of my imagination?

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