my over active imagination

it always seems to be about you

Here I am, rocking Ana to sleep, dreaming of you. Imagining the things we could experience. The first kiss, the nerves and butterflies in my stomach. Your eyes would be burning with a question, as you lean in unsure. Even though I hate first kisses, I can't stop thinking about what ours could be like.
I can't stop imagining how the bed will dip from your weight, and how you will search for me in your sleep. Kissing my forehead, kissing my neck from behind while I cook dinner, dancing in the rain, my mind just can't stop.
And that's the worst part, I'm building you into my life. What if this doesn't work out, and I'm left to unravel you from memories we never even created. When the want and need is so strong I can taste it on my lips. I'm crushed beneath the weight of memories that aren't real.
I've created a million memories in my mind. When I dream of you mumbling as you fall asleep the smell of my hair is your favorite smell. I wake with the smoke of your touch disappearing with the morning light.