lovebox: war

The television is like background music. You lounge comfortably, leaned against the wall, one leg pulled up to your chest and your head slightly lolled to one side. I don't know if you are as aware of me as I am of you--I think I look stiff, sitting beside you, my arms corded with tension.

I look over to you, and as if you can feel my eyes wandering the contours of your face, you turn your head, your expression unguarded as you fully return my gaze.

What is it that I see in you? I've wondered that-- wondered what was it about you that kept me dreamingyearningwishing--- what was it about you and me and our childhood love that makes me never want to let it go. 

That makes me never want to let you go.

(Maybe its the little magic tricks you show me, or the way you get flustered and embarrassed when your English pronunciation sucks, or maybe it's because when you kiss me I feel as if I'm going to die---)

But why? How can two people fall in love at fourteen, not see each other for three years, and yet still have something stir in their hearts at seventeen? How can chests tighten, veins burn, and hands yearn for just one more touch?

How can I still be in love with you?

Even before I can think, i have already opened my mouth to ask you. My tongue curls around the vowels and consonants of my question, but I swallow the characters down my throat because you have just covered my hands with your own.

I watch questioningly as you curl your fingers around mine so that they are laced together, so that my fingernails bite into your palms, and our thumbs rest against each other in a kiss.

"Do you know how to play?" You ask, and I nod-- of course I do!

"One, two, three, four, I declare thumb war. Five, six, seven, eight--" I start to say, and have to suppress a giggle because you have no clue what I'm saying or talking about-- to you, I'm just counting in English.

"Go!" I say, excited. It is only a few seconds in when I realize you're not really into the game-- your efforts are half-hearted, your arm loose against your side.

I realize then, this game of war was only an excuse to hold my hand.

(Maybe I'm still in love with you for the same reason you're still in love with me.)